The Least of These
by BeckyH
Summary: A sudden loss devestates Michaela and Sully. When a dying woman brings her part Crow son to town, entrusting Michaela with finding him a home, Michaela soon uncovers a dark history between the Crow and Cheyenne that threatens to come between her and Sully
1. Chapter 1

I just finished posting this story to the DQ list and many people suggested I post here too. I hope you enjoy. If you like I'll post some of my other stories. It's 20 chapters. I'll post one a day. Please leave comments!

The Least of These

By Becky

Chapter One

"Sully?" Michaela called, Jack on her hip and her medical bag in one hand. Katie and Byron raced inside out of the rain, dumping their books and slates on the table. They heard shuffling upstairs and someone was hammering loudly.

"Up here," Sully called back.

"Take off your wet coats and boats," Michaela told the children, putting her medical bag on the table. "Don't track in mud."

Michaela carried Jack up the stairs and followed the noise to Brian's room. Brian and Sully were moving furniture out of the way of a large leak in the roof. Sully's toolbox and a tarp were on Brian's bed. They had put a bucket below the hole that was already overflowing.

"Oh, no," she said despondently. "What on earth?"

Jack pointed at the hole in the roof. "Wat!" he shouted.

"Guess the new roof leaks," Brian said, positioning a ladder below the hole.

"Look at your mattress," Michaela said, fingering the soaked blankets. "It's ruined!"

"Musta started leakin' when we were outside. I didn't notice until I came up here to get somethin'," Brian explained.

"Oh, no. Oh, no. This is horrible," she said melodramatically.

"Calm down. We'll get it cleaned up," Sully said reassuringly.

"Sully, we just put on a new roof. I don't believe this."

Sully grabbed another bucket and replaced the full one. "It was your idea to hire that drifter when I coulda easily done it myself in half the time."

"Ma was just tryin' to help give him some work, Pa," Brian explained.

"Well, he said he's done dozens of roofs," she said defensively. "And I felt sorry for him. You weren't home to consult. But you would have given him work, too."

"I woulda fixed the roof myself," Sully replied, slightly irritated.

"The point is what are we going to do now?" she replied.

"We can't get up there with lightning out," he said, climbing up on the ladder. "We're gonna nail a few boards on the inside that should hold until the rain stops and we can fix it proper. Pass me a hammer, son."

Brian grabbed the hammer out of Sully's toolbox and handed it up to him.

Michaela watched them impatiently. "Sully, Flash is still in the corral. She needs to be brought in out of this weather."

"Can you do it? We're busy."

She patted Jack's back. "No I can't. I have to start supper and the baby needs a diaper change and he's cranky for his bottle."

"Ask Katie," he replied.

"No, absolutely not. She's a little girl."

"She's not so little anymore, Michaela. And Flash is small, wouldn't hurt a fly. She's old enough to walk her in."

"Please, Sully? I want you to do it."

He climbed down from the ladder and brushed off his hands. "All right, fine. It'll only take a minute." He reached his arms out and took Jack from her, giving him a big kiss. "Hey, big boy. How ya doin'? Ya like this thunder?"

Jack hugged his neck and Sully kissed him again.

Michaela immediately softened at father and son being so affectionate. She rubbed Jack's back. "He was a sweetheart today. Didn't fuss at all even though I was with patients all day. And he hardly cried on the way home even though we were all getting soaked."

"You were good for your ma, were ya, Jack?" Sully said, lovingly caressing his head. "All right, Mama's bossin' me around. Gotta go do what she says." He handed her back the baby with a wink.

Michaela eyed him wryly, resting Jack over her shoulder and rocking him. He wrapped his little hands around her neck and gurgled happily. "Mm, I love you," she whispered, kissing the baby's head. "All right, let's get you a clean diaper, young man."

Michaela was exhausted after a busy day, was really hoping to get to bed early, but love for the three precious children cuddled against her outweighed her need for sleep. Katie, Byron and Jack were curled up in bed with her, everyone in their nightshifts, as the rain continued on the roof.

"'Now though the giant could not, of course, see Jack, he could smell him, for giants have keen noses,'" Michaela read as the children gazed at the colorful illustrations. "'Therefore Thunderdell cried out in a voice like his name: "Fee, fi, fo, fum. I smell the blood of an Englishman.'"

"The voices, Mama! Do the voices!" Katie pleaded.

"Oh, Katie, Mama's tired."

"Please? Please, Mama," Byron begged. "Do the voices!"

She sighed and kissed his head. "Fee, fi, fo, fum! I smell the blood of and Englishman!" she shouted in her best loud and deep giant voice.

Katie, Byron and Jack all burst into giggles, delighted.

Michaela laughed and hugged them to her as she continued to read. She was glad she had found it in her to stay awake. There was nothing better than cuddling up with her little ones on a cold and rainy night.

Finally she turned the last page. Jack's grip on one end of the book was quickly fading and his eyes were drooping close. Sully entered the room with two cups of tea and paused in the doorway, content to watch the precious sight.

"Jack's fame had now spread through the whole country," Michaela read, "and at the King's desire the duke gave him his daughter in marriage, to the joy of all his kingdom. After this the King gave him a large estate, on which he and his lady lived the rest of their days in joy and contentment. The end." She closed the book. "All right, bedtime."

Katie hugged her. "Night-night."

"Goodnight. I love you."

Byron hugged her and kissed her. "I like that one cause it has Jack in it. Love you, Mama."

"Love you," she replied, handing him the book to take back to his room. "Cover up warm tonight."

Katie and Byron hugged Sully on their way out.

"Made some tea," Sully said, putting one of the cups on the nightstand. "Should help keep away the chill."

"Thank you," she replied, getting out of bed and carrying the droopy eyed baby to him. "Say, night-night Papa."

Sully kissed him with a smile. "Night, Jack. Your ma read ya a good bedtime story, huh?"

"I hope they don't come running to us in the middle of the night dreaming about giants," she said wryly, carrying Jack to the crib, kissing him and placing him inside. She tucked his little stuffed bear beside him, then pulled the covers up to his chin and rubbed his belly. "Night-night, sweetheart. I love you."

Sully leaned over Michaela, watching her sleep for a moment before kissing her awake. "After seven. Ya gonna get up?"

She slowly opened her eyes, stretching. "After seven? Why didn't you wake me?"

He shrugged. "You looked too pretty to wake. Stopped rainin'. Chores are done, kids are up and Brian's starting breakfast."

She smiled and kissed him. "I must have been tired."

"You and Jack both."

Katie poked her head in as Michaela was sitting up and putting on her slippers. "Mama, can you help me with my spelling before school?"

Michaela glanced at her. "Yes, bring your speller downstairs."

Sully put his arm around the little girl. "C'mon. Let's get somethin' to eat."

Byron stormed in just as they left. "Mama, can you pack two apples in my lunch? I want to feed one to Robert E.'s new horse before school."

"I suppose. As long as it doesn't make you late." She glanced at his shoes. "And tie your laces."

"All right," he replied, racing out of the room.

"Right now please, before you fall and hurt yourself," she called, grabbing her bathrobe and slipping into it. She crossed the room and peered into the crib with a smile. "Jack, sweetheart. Time to wake up. You've got to help Mama get your brother and sister ready for school." She reached into the crib, touched his back, and froze. Slowly, she backed up a few steps, leaning against the cool stones of the fireplace and staring at the crib as the color drained from her face.

Sully appeared in the doorway again. "Ya want your eggs scrambled?" He paused, swallowing as he took in Michaela's ghostly expression. "Michaela? Michaela, what's wrong?"

She glanced at him, struggling to speak. "The baby…something's wrong with the baby."

"What's wrong?" He quickly crossed the room and reached into the crib. "Jack?" He pressed his hand to the baby's head, finding it cool. He slowly turned to look at Michaela, face falling.

"Oh, my God. Oh. Sully, he's…?" she whispered.

He glanced at the lifeless baby, then back at her. At last he managed a small nod.

"No!" She rushed to the crib, reaching in, but Sully caught her in time, holding her tightly to his chest as she burst into helpless tears.

"Nothin' we can do," he murmured as tears streamed down his face.

"Sully, he's been like that for hours," she choked, holding onto his arm. "Oh God. Jack. Jack! Jack!" She let out a long, torturous cry of despair.

He drew her down to the floor, holding her tight against him as they grieved.

Sully kept his arm firmly around Michaela, afraid if he let go she might collapse. She was still in her nightgown and bathrobe, too distraught to care about propriety. The Reverend stood beside her and held her hand while they waited for Jake and Robert E. to come downstairs. Brian lingered near the door, poised to help where needed.

Dorothy and Grace were outside on the porch with Katie and Byron, trying to comfort them with hugs and kind words.

At last the two men slowly descended the stairs, carrying the baby, wrapped in several thick white sheets, with the greatest of care. They avoided looking at Michaela and Sully as they made their way across the room to the door.

Michaela kept her eyes on the tiny bundle with an expression of sheer anguish. She and Sully followed after the men a few steps as they headed out to the porch and down the stairs.

"Where they takin' him, Papa?" Katie asked tearfully.

"They're just gonna get him ready for the funeral, Kates," Sully whispered, grasping her hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

"I don't want them to take him," Byron said, tears slipping rapidly down his cheeks as the men secured the body in the back of their wagon. "Papa, Mama, tell them they can't."

"Hush, they'll take good care of him," Grace said, rubbing his back. "The best care."

"That we will," Robert E. murmured, climbing into the wagon beside Jake. Jake gave the reins a flick and the wagon rolled away.

The Reverend stepped forward. "Sully, Michaela…we don't have to discuss the arrangements right now. We can wait until tomorrow."

"Maybe ya better come back in the mornin'," Sully agreed, glancing at Michaela with concern.

Michaela looked at the Reverend blankly. "No, no I can do it now. Just let me get dressed."

"You sure you don't want me to spend the night?" Dorothy asked, holding the reins of her buggy and looking down at Sully worriedly.

Sully shook his head. "We're all right. Kids are already asleep."

"Well, I'll come back first thing in the mornin'. Don't you worry about breakfast. Me and Grace will see to it," Dorothy said, reaching down and squeezing his hand. "You try and get some sleep, too, Sully. For both your sakes."

He nodded. "See ya tomorrow."

Sully turned and slowly made his way back up the porch stairs, going back inside. Brian turned from the sink where he was drying the last few dishes.

"Supper's all cleaned up, Pa," he said.

"Thanks, son," Sully replied, joining him in the kitchen and resting one hand on his shoulder. "How ya holdin' up?"

"I'm all right. Just real worried about Ma. She wouldn't even come down and eat."

"We'll get her through this. All of us'll make it through. It's just gonna take some time," Sully said reassuringly.

Brian nodded, sighing and turning back to the dishes. "I'll finish these. You should go to bed."

Sully squeezed his shoulder. "Night. I love ya."

"Love ya, too, Pa," Brian murmured.

Sully made his way upstairs and entered the room. Earlier Grace and Dorothy had found a black mourning dress tucked away for years in a trunk and laundered it for Michaela to put on. Now she lay on the bed in the dreary looking garment, clutching Jack's blanket to her chest.

Sully slowly sat on the bed and rested one hand on her thigh, watching her stare off into the distance.

"Andrew stopped by a couple hours ago," he finally murmured. "Said he'd watch the clinic for ya, as long as ya need." He waited a long moment for her to reply, then gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. "Dorothy's gonna come back tomorrow morning. And Grace. Help out with the kids. And Horace said he'd wire your ma, let her know. No charge."

"They're all so thoughtful," she finally whispered.

"Yep," he agreed. "We should get some rest. Been a long day. Here, let me put this back in the crib." He grasped the blanket.

"No. No, don't take it. I can still smell him," she whispered, hugging the blanket tighter.

He slowly withdrew, grasping her hand and reclining beside her. He drew her as close as possible and gave the back of her head a gentle kiss. "I love you."

She squeezed his hand back hard. "I love you, too," she whispered.

Robert E. had carved a simple but beautiful casket from ash. He had sanded it perfectly smooth and stained it, and Grace and Dorothy had put together a beautiful bouquet of daisies, lilies and bright wildflowers and laid them on top. Dozens of mourners were gathered in the cemetery as the Reverend finished the heart wrenching service. Michaela and Sully stood in front, holding hands, the gravity of it all truly sinking in as they gazed down at the tiny casket.

"Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us," the congregation recited. "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen."

Gradually, the mourners made their way out of the cemetery, several stopping to pat Sully's arm or squeeze Michaela's hand. Matthew and Brian led the distraught children away, leaving Michaela and Sully alone with the Reverend.

"I'm going to stop by tomorrow morning. Robert E. said he would drive me out," the Reverend said helplessly.

"That's fine. Thank you, Reverend," Sully said hoarsely.

He reached out and grasped their hands. "Michaela, Sully…God be with you."

Michaela squeezed back ever so slightly. The Reverend breathed a soft sigh and turned, making his way back to the church to give them some time alone.

"…Sully, it's so small," Michaela whispered numbly.

Sully put his arm around her, struggling hard to hold back tears.

"Robert E. did a fine job," he said shakily.

"Our time with him was so short," she said despairingly. "We were supposed to raise him. He was supposed to grow up with the other children. It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"We did what we could when he was with us. Now he's gone to a better place."

"Oh, Sully, he's in heaven isn't he? There must be something beyond this world. I couldn't bear it if…"

"I know he is," he murmured. "I know he's someplace better."

"We're going to cover him with dirt," she murmured, reaching her hand out and laying it on the casket. "We're going to put him in the cold ground."

"It's just a body," he said bravely.

Michaela slowly knelt down, enveloping one arm around the little casket. "I love you, Jack. Mama will never forget you." She gave the casket a soft kiss. "Mama and Papa won't ever forget you."

Sully crouched down beside her, no longer able to hold back tears. "…Goodbye, Jack." He held Michaela close to him and together they wept over the tiny casket.

Hattie Randolph slowly opened her eyes and looked around the small recovery room, disoriented. A tray of food was on the nightstand beside the bed and a young nurse was writing something down on a chart. Outside, the streets of Helena were bustling with miners, trappers and other townsfolk starting their days. Life went on at its usual brisk pace, but inside her small room she had a strong feeling everything was about to change.

"Ah, you had a nice long sleep," the nurse remarked softly.

"Where's my son?" Hattie whispered hoarsely.

"He's fine. Still waiting outside. A patient little thing he is."

"Could he come in?"

"Well, we'll see. You're not supposed to have visitors right now."

At that moment the doctor opened the door, wearing a white coat and spectacles. The nurse handed him the chart and he stood beside the bed and studied it.

"Fetch some more water for her," the doctor instructed. "She's getting dehydrated."

"Yes, doctor," the nurse said, obediently exiting the room.

"Well, how are we feeling, Miss Randolph?" the doctor asked.

Hattie knew immediately by the expression on his face he had bad news. "The surgery didn't go well, did it," she murmured. "Please, doc. Just tell me."

He removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. "This is very difficult. The cancer was even more advanced than I feared. It's spread to the surrounding tissue and up to your liver." He sighed. "I'm sorry, but there was nothing I could do."

She swallowed hard, digesting his words. "My son," she finally said.

He nodded. "I suggest you begin making arrangements immediately."

"My only kin's in Colorado," she explained. "When will I be strong enough to travel?"

"I wouldn't advise a long train ride like that," he said. "Not in your condition."

"Doctor, when can I travel?" she asked persistently.

He sighed. "You'll need to rest here about three more weeks so you can recover and we can monitor the incision for infection. Then if you're stable I suppose we can release you."

"Three weeks then," she replied. "Three weeks."

Michaela knelt down in front of Jack's marker, running her hand across the carving. Jack Josef Sully, it read. 1881 to 1882. She bent her head as tears flowed. Suddenly, she heard a baby crying plaintively from beneath the ground.

"Jack?" she murmured. "Jack!"

The crying grew louder.

Frantically, Michaela clawed at the ground, trying to dig. But the soil was too rocky and hard, and she could barely make any progress with only her hands. "Jack, no! Jack! Jack!"

Michaela screamed Jack's name, violently awakening herself.

Sully immediately woke, grasping her arm. "Michaela, what's wrong?"

Panic-stricken, she got out of bed and ran to the empty crib, grabbing the top of it and looking in. "Jack. No!"

Sully quickly followed her, brow fixed. "It's all right. You musta been dreamin'."

She spun around to face him, tears pouring down her cheeks and face bathed in sweat. "No, he was alive. Sully, he was alive. He was crying! We have to go back there. We have to go back. You have to help me get him out of there!"

He grabbed her arms firmly. "Michaela!"

She shook her head. "We can't leave him down there in the cold earth. It's so dark. He's afraid of the dark. We have to get our baby."

"Michaela, he's dead!" he said firmly. "Our baby is dead!"

She looked up at him and panted for a long moment, slowly regaining her senses. Her face suddenly grew very pale. "I think I'm going to be sick. Oh."

He quickly left her side and grabbed the basin for washing up, bringing it to her. She crouched down, gagging a few times before throwing up what little she had managed to eat at supper. Sully held her hair and rubbed her heaving back, patiently allowing her to take all the time she needed.

Finally she sat back, leaning against the crib and closing her eyes exhaustedly. "Sully, he's dead."

He pressed his brow to hers and caressed her damp cheek, not knowing what to say.

She brought her hand up and cupped his wrist. "Don't leave me. I'm so frightened."

"Shh, I ain't leavin'. Let's get ya in bed," he murmured, helping her carefully to her feet.

Sully sat on the bed and placed a cool cloth behind Michaela's neck. She was curled up on her side, gazing at the crib across the room with bloodshot eyes.

"This can't be happening," she whispered plaintively. "I keep waiting to wake up from this nightmare."

"I wish it was," he murmured, tiredly but devotedly rubbing her back, as he had for the past half hour.

"I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye," she added. "It was so quick."

"He knew how much we loved him."

"How long do you suppose he was like that while we slept on, completely oblivious?"

"I don't know. Stop thinkin' about things like that. You're makin' yourself sick."

"I can't help it. It's all I can think about."

"Ya gotta try an' go back to sleep. It must be after two," he said.

"I don't think I can," she said despairingly.

"What should I do? Some tea help? Or maybe somethin' else ya can take?"

She glanced up at him timidly. "You mean a sedative?"

He leaned down and smoothed her hair lovingly. "I think it's all right if you take a little somethin'. Michaela, I don't wanna see ya lay like this all night. Ya gotta sleep."

She met his eyes indecisively. He was clearly exhausted, but he had sat with her every moment, murmuring words of comfort, rubbing her back and calming her down. She knew how badly he also needed to sleep, and that he wouldn't do so unless he was assured she too was resting.

"All right. I think I have something I could take in my bag. It's downstairs," she murmured.

He kissed her brow softly. "I'll be right back."

Michaela pressed one hand to her head and closed her eyes, grimacing. A sedative had helped her to sleep quite awhile, but when she woke up around nine she had a ghastly headache. She could hear Sully downstairs quickly scrounging up some tea for her, always so ready to attend to her every need.

Byron slowly opened the door, looking at Michaela timidly. "Mama, are you asleep?"

Still groggy from the sedative, Michaela opened her eyes a sliver and glanced at him. "Mm? No."

"What's wrong, Mama?" Katie whispered from behind Byron.

"Your head hurt, Mama?" Byron added.

"Papa's getting me some tea. I'll be all right."

Byron crawled up on the bed and held her free hand.

"Did you eat breakfast?" she murmured.

"Yeah. Brian made it for us," Katie replied.

"Good."

"Want us to bring you some breakfast, Mama?" Byron asked hopefully. "We'll make you anything you want. You can even have candy."

She glanced at him, touched. "Oh, that's all right. I'll just drink some tea."

"Papa said we don't have to go to school again today," Byron remarked.

Michaela squeezed his hand. "Not if you don't want to. You can stay home the rest of the week. Longer if you need to."

Byron leaned down and hugged her back. "Good. I want to stay with you. I don't want to go anywhere."

"Me, too," Katie whispered, crawling into bed beside her.

"Oh, my sweethearts," Michaela said hoarsely, wrapping her arm lovingly around Katie.

"We'll stay with you until you feel better," Byron said resolutely, kissing her cheek and hugging her tighter.

Katie kissed her other cheek. "Don't worry, Mama. Don't be sad. You still have us."

"Oh," she murmured tearfully. She held them to her, grateful to be embraced by their little arms.


	2. Chapter 2

-1**Chapter Two**

"We sure appreciate all this food the past few days," Sully said quietly. "Helped make things easier not worryin' about meals."

"Grace got everyone to send something over," the Reverend explained. He was seated at the kitchen table with Michaela and Sully, holding his Bible tightly in his hands and struggling to offer the distraught couple some words of solace.

"Sure was kind," Sully added, glancing at Michaela and giving her shoulder a small squeeze. She had barely said a word, leaving all the talking up to Sully.

"Michaela, I know his soul is in heaven," the Reverend began carefully. "And someday you'll be with him again. We must put our faith in God, trust in Him."

"I've been praying," she told him hoarsely.

"That's good," he said with surprise. "Prayer can be a wonderful comfort."

"I've been praying for an answer. Why, why did our baby die? What have we done to deserve this?"

"It's nothin' we done, Michaela," Sully said insistently.

"No, no this isn't a punishment," the Reverend said in agreement. "You were good parents to your son, and faithful members of the church. No, the Lord has a reason. This is part of His plan. I know we don't understand it now, but in time…"

Michaela abruptly stood. "No. No, there's no reason for this. You can't tell me there's a reason to take an innocent baby from his mother. Excuse me." She brushed past the Reverend and headed up the stairs.

The Reverend turned, listening to her footsteps fade and a door close.

"I'm sorry, Reverend," Sully said. "Talkin' about it, it's real hard on her."

"No, don't apologize. I just, I wish I knew what to say to make this easier on the two of you. I wish I could do more."

He breathed a soft sigh. "No, me and Michaela just appreciate ya being here." He squeezed his arm. "I'm gonna go check on her."

"Of course."

Sully quickly padded up the stairs and slowly opened the closed door. Michaela was standing beside the crib, holding onto the ledge.

"Michaela," he said, walking toward her.

She shook her head. "What reason, Sully? What reason? I can't do this. I can't…I-"

He quickly enveloped her in a tight hug. "It's all right. It's all right. We're doin' this together. We're gonna get through this together."

&&&&

Byron and Katie buttoned up their coats and gathered their schoolbooks. It had been a quiet breakfast. Neither child was very excited about returning to school, but Michaela and Sully had decided it was time they get back to their normal routines.

Michaela picked at her food as Sully came in from outside after hitching the wagon. He had dished her up a rather optimistic spoonful of eggs as well as a few sausages and a bowl of oatmeal, but she had only managed to eat a little of the oatmeal and drink half a cup of coffee. Brian sat beside her, more to keep her company than anything else. He had finished his breakfast long before.

"Say goodbye to your ma. Time to go," Sully murmured.

Katie and Byron hugged her silently.

"Bundle up. It's chilly this morning," Michaela said, quickly doing up the top few buttons of Katie's jacket for her.

"Here, take a hat," Sully said, grabbing Byron's little cowboy hat and putting it on his head. "All right, I'll be back in an hour."

"Hurry back," Michaela replied quietly.

He squeezed her shoulder and led the children outside, shutting the door after them.

Michaela sighed and ate another small bite of the oatmeal as Brian watched her dotingly.

She cleared her throat. "Wouldn't you like to go to the Gazette today and help Dorothy?"

He shrugged. "I'll stay here. I don't mind."

"You haven't seen Sarah in awhile. Is everything all right?"

"Sure, we're fine," he replied. "Guess I just didn't think it's a good time to be havin' friends over."

"Oh, Brian. Of course you can." She took a sip of her coffee. "Sully and I really like her you know. She's welcome here any time."

"Thanks, Ma," he replied with a small smile.

"Perhaps you could even ride out there this morning and invite her to supper tonight."

"But...Pa said I should stay with ya until he gets back. I gotta clean up breakfast and help out."

She glanced at the pile of breakfast dishes on the table, taking a deep breath. She hated to see Brian missing out on visiting his friends or working at the Gazette because of her, and she had to admit it made her uncomfortable having him hovering over her all day as if she might break. "I can do that. There's not that much to do. I'll manage, I promise."

He let out a relieved sigh, standing. "All right, Ma. If you're sure." He rose and put on his coat and hat.

"Tell Sarah we look forward to seeing her," Michaela said as he left. She picked up her cup again and took another sip of the coffee. The homestead had been bustling with friends bringing by food or checking in on them since Jack had died, and the children had stayed close by out of school for more than a week, so she was relieved to have a little silence after all the commotion.

She sighed as someone knocked on the door. No quiet at the homestead ever lasted very long. She was suddenly sorry she had encouraged Brian to leave. He would have been able to answer the door and speak with whoever was calling on them so she wouldn't have to. She reluctantly rose to her feet and opened the door.

"Grace," Michaela said, smiling briefly. "Good morning."

"Mornin', Dr. Mike," Grace said warmly, holding up a basket. "Could you use a rhubarb pie? And I baked some cookies for the children.

"Oh, Grace, you've done so much already. Thank you. Come in. Sully just took the children to school and Brian's out. But I know they'll all appreciate it."

Grace walked inside and put the basket on the table. "I saw Sully on the way out here. It's good they're goin' back to school."

Michaela slowly sat down again. "We weren't sure they're ready. They're still so upset." She sighed. "But I don't want to make them stay at home and watch me like this anymore."

"No, they'll do fine," Grace said reassuringly, sitting across from her. "Miss Teresa was real understanding when my Anthony took sick. She always gave him lots of time to catch up on what he missed and make up the tests when he was ready."

"That's good to know," Michaela murmured.

Grace cleared her throat. "Dr. Mike, when Anthony died I wish somebody had told me how I should go about facin' something like that." She shook her head. "But there wasn't anybody who knew what I was goin' through, so I had to figure it out myself."

Michaela looked back dejectedly, suddenly feeling closer to Grace than ever. They had both lost their sons. "How did you do it, Grace?"

"There's no easy answer. But right now it's the little things that'll help. When he passed on, one of the first things I did was pack up all his clothes and take them to folks in Shantytown. They were so happy to have all those fine things we bought for him."

Michaela glanced upstairs hesitantly, thinking about all of Jack's little caps and shifts and shoes that were neatly packed away in the bureau. "That really made a difference?" she whispered.

"If my boy couldn't wear those clothes anymore, it made sense somebody less fortunate should have them. I know they still got a lotta need for good clothes. And lots of new babies bein' born all the time. They could always use things Jack's size."

"I have lots of his shifts, and some little shoes we just bought," she said hoarsely.

"Oh, what they wouldn't give for a pair of sturdy shoes a little one could learn to walk in," Grace breathed.

"How do I…how do I get it to them?"

"I gotta get to the café, but if you gather them up I can come back later this afternoon and pick them up. You could put them in the basket the pie and cookies are in."

Michaela nodded resolutely. She was desperate to try anything to help her feel better, and Grace's idea sounded very reasonable. "All right, Grace. I will."

Grace reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it. "I'm thinkin' about you. Me and Robert E. both want to do whatever we can."

"You've been dear friends throughout this," Michaela replied tearfully. "Thank you."

&&&&&&&&

"What'd ya learn in school today?" Sully asked as he drove the wagon toward the homestead. Katie and Byron were sitting to his left, uncharacteristically quiet for most of the ride.

"Nothin'," Byron said.

"…Kids glad to have ya back?"

"Yeah," Byron murmured.

Sully put his arm around him. "Listen, maybe tomorrow you could go to school just for the mornin'. Maybe this was too much."

"No, I like going all day," Katie replied. "And Miss Teresa said we only have to do a little homework. The other kids got lots."

"Yeah, we only got a little arithmetic," Byron said.

"Good. You can start on it soon as we get home."

"Maybe Mama can help me," Byron said hopefully, clutching his slate to his chest.

"Yeah, why don't you ask her. I bet she'd like that," Sully murmured as the homestead came into view. Brian was outside chopping some wood. Sully pulled the wagon up to the porch and jumped down, helping the children climb to the ground.

"Faye stopped by while you were gone," Brian said, dropping a few pieces of kindling on the large pile next to the porch. "Brought a casserole for supper."

"Good. Where's your ma? Still asleep?" Sully replied.

"I think so," he said quietly.

Sully glanced up at the master bedroom window. The curtains were still drawn.

"Be real quiet, kids," he said, caressing Katie's head. "Start your homework downstairs."

"All right, Papa," Katie said obediently.

The children quickly took a seat at the dining room table and got out their books as Sully headed upstairs. He carefully opened the bedroom door, expecting Michaela to be sleeping. He was surprised to see her up and bustling about. She was folding several diaper cloths, shifts and other baby clothes and placing them carefully in a large basket.

"You're awake," Sully remarked.

"Faye brought a casserole," she replied with a soft smile.

"I heard. Ya feel like eatin'?"

She neatly folded one of the smallest shifts. "I think I could. A little."

"Good. Byron wants ya to help with homework." He walked to the window and opened the curtains. "Let's get some light in here."

"Could you help him, Sully? I just…I'm not up to that right now."

He opened the window to let in some fresh air. "But you're better at things like that. He wants you."

She let out a deep sigh. "All right. Maybe when I'm finished here."

He briefly touched one of the shifts. "What ya doin'?"

She resumed her folding. "Grace said they could use some baby clothes in Shantytown. She's coming by this afternoon to pick them up."

"…Sure ya wanna do that?"

"And I was thinking perhaps you and Brian could take apart the crib," she added, avoiding his eyes. "I'm sure someone will want it."

"Michaela, ya don't have to move so fast."

"Grace said when Anthony died it helped to give his things away to those who could really use them."

He gently rubbed her back. "I'm sure it did, but that's Grace. Everybody grieves different."

She picked up a little white bonnet, briefly squeezing it in her hands before putting it in the basket. "How was their first day back at school?"

"Sounds like Miss Teresa's bein' real patient. Went as well as could be expected."

"She's kind to them."

"Telegram came from your ma," he added.

"How did she take the news? Is she all right?"

He shrugged. "She sounds pretty upset, concerned about us, the kids. Says she can be out here in three or four days if she leaves right now."

"No. No, I don't want to subject her to another long train ride like that. She's getting older and-"

"Michaela, she said she wants to help. I don't think it'd be such a bad idea, takin' her up on it."

"Since when are you so eager to have my mother come visit?" she asked, surprised at the curtness in her voice.

He sighed. "Elizabeth and me have had our differences, but the fact is she's a good woman. The kids love her. She could help us out with them. And she could help you." He stepped forward and gently touched her back. "Times like this, I'd think anybody would want their ma around. I'm gonna tell her to come, Michaela."

"No, don't," she said firmly. "Please don't do that." She stepped away from the bed. "Sully, I'm grateful for all of our friends. They've all been helping out wherever they can. All this food is so wonderful. And Dorothy and Grace and Teresa have really been here for our children. I know the children are devastated too, and I feel so terrible that I haven't been able to support them like I want to. But where I couldn't, our friends stepped in."

"Then what's the matter?" he asked, confused.

"I just can't face one more person hugging me and kissing me and telling me how horrible this is. I know how horrible this is. I know. But I'm trying to get back on my feet, I'm trying to think about other things besides our baby dying. I just know Mother is going to make me feel worse about this, as well meaning as she may be."

"This ain't the way, Michaela," he whispered. "Not thinkin' about it ain't gonna help. We gotta face this."

"Then tell me how!" she replied, the frustration and helplessness in her voice escalating. "How do we face something like this? What's the right way to grieve? What are we supposed to do?"

"First, we send for your ma," he said resolutely.

"Please, please just tell her I truly appreciate it, but we're going to be fine." Her voice broke. "We'll be fine." She picked up the full basket. "I should take this downstairs. Grace is going to be here any minute."

&&&&

"Andrew. Andrew, are you in here?" Preston Lodge called, knocking loudly on the clinic door.

"I'll be with you in a minute," Andrew called through the door.

Preston opened the door and walked in. "I can't wait that long."

Andrew was standing in front of the examination table, handing an elderly women some packets of herbs. "Preston, I'm with a patient," Andrew hissed.

"Then step outside," Preston retorted, gesturing with one hand.

Andrew touched the old woman's arm. "Excuse me just a moment, Mrs. Harvey."

Preston grabbed his arm and led him outside, slamming the door behind him.

"What do you think you're doing? You said you'd be at the Château by lunch time. Andrew, it's two o'clock!"

The young doctor sighed and folded his arms. "I'm sorry, Preston. But Mrs. Harvey couldn't wait until tomorrow. Her rheumatism was acting up and-"

"Andrew, I was more than happy to let you help out Michaela in this way. What happened was just….just terrible. But now I feel she may be taking advantage of my generosity."

"That's unfair, Preston. Michaela's mourning her child. It's understandable she doesn't want to work right now. It must help her to know that her clinic is in good hands."

"Has she given you any indication of when she'll be coming back?"

Andrew hesitated. "To be honest, I haven't talked to her. She hasn't been to town since the funeral. And I haven't seen much of Sully either."

"You've been doing this for almost four weeks," Preston said impatiently. "Couldn't you at least ride out to the homestead and find out what her intentions are? I'm very sorry she's so grief stricken she feels she can't work, but at a certain point the rest of us have to get back to our normal routines."

"I've been remiss in not going to see her. I'll ride out there, see how she's doing."

Preston sighed, relenting a bit. "I'm willing to let you do this for her for a few more weeks. I suppose we owe her."

"That's right. Michaela's always helped us when we've been in need. Now we have a chance to return the favor," Andrew said in agreement.

"But I need you back full time after that, Andrew," Preston said firmly. "Whether Michaela returns to work by then or not."

"I'll talk to her today," Andrew replied, opening the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a patient to see."

&&&

Andrew pulled his buggy up to the front of the homestead. He spotted Michaela around the side of the house, removing some sheets and towels from the clothesline and putting them in a laundry basket. Two black blouses and a black dress were drying on the line.

Andrew waved and walked up to her. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Andrew," she replied.

"It's good to see you out. How are you doing?"

"Better, thank you. Just trying to catch up on some chores."

"Sleeping all right?"

She hesitated, averting her eyes. "Yes, usually."

He folded his arms. "Do you think you'll be coming back to the clinic soon?"

"You told me to take all the time I needed," she replied.

"Of course. It's just, it's been a month. I thought perhaps-"

She dropped a few hand towels in the basket. "I know you must be terribly busy between my clinic and the Chateau. I've been thinking maybe I should close it for awhile."

"Close it? What about your patients?"

She swallowed hard. "I'm not sure I trust myself anymore."

He stepped closer to her. "Michaela, no one knows why crib death happens. It remains one of medical science's greatest mysteries. Babies usually act perfectly healthy just prior to death. There was nothing you or I or anyone could do." She pulled down a few more towels, lips pursed. "Michaela, if you'd like I could do some research on it for you. See what the latest findings are."

She paused in her work, gazing out at the mountains wistfully. "He was just starting to really like to sit on my lap and be read to. I don't know if he was really old enough to understand the stories, but I think he just liked listening to my voice." She smiled softly. "That night the three of them crowded into bed with me and we read from one of their fairy tale books. The baby was fine, he was alert and happy. He had a little catarrh a few weeks before, but that was all." Her expression turned pained. "He was almost asleep when I finished the story. The older children went to bed and I carried him to his crib, kissed him and tucked him under the covers. I said, 'I love you, Jack.' Then Sully and I went to bed. He didn't make a sound all night…and in the morning he was…"

"Michaela, the last thing he heard was your voice telling him you loved him. You did everything a mother could."

"I didn't see it," she murmured, quickly removing the last few towels from the line.

"It's not something you can see," Andrew said firmly. "No one can. Michaela, I think you would find it would help you, going back to work."

"Andrew, could you please stay there just a little longer?" she pleaded, voice breaking. "I'm just not ready yet." She gazed up at him desperately. "Please, Andrew," she whispered.

He sighed, slowly nodded. "All right. All right. I'll stay a little longer."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

&&&&

Byron jumped over Sully's last checker and let out a tiny squeal. "I beat you, Papa!" he exclaimed.

Katie clapped her hands and giggled as Brian looked up from his book. Michaela was sitting in one of the wingback chairs near the fire, gazing at the flames. She gave the children a brief glance.

"Ya beat me all right," Sully said, reaching across the board and ruffling his hair.

"Let's play again," Byron said eagerly.

"It's gettin' late. I think everybody should head up to bed now," Sully said.

"I'll get them into bed," Brian offered, putting his book on a nearby chair and guiding his little brother and sister to the stairs.

"Goodnight, kids," Sully called. He gazed across the room at his wife. "….Michaela?"

"Hm?"

"Checkers?"

She shook her head.

"How 'bout chess? We ain't played in a long time."

She grinned softly. "He used to love to sit in my lap here in front of the fire. He would always get his little fingers tangled in my hair."

He slowly joined her, crouching down to her level and resting one hand on her knee.

"Oh, he was so terribly colicky all the time," she said with a soft chuckle. "I was beside myself those first few months."

"Me, too," he said in agreement.

"Do you remember when he wouldn't eat unless I was the one feeding him? He did that for weeks. I've never seen such a stubborn baby."

He chuckled softly. "I sure do. I couldn't get him to eat for anything."

"And your face when I told you I was pregnant," she said, grinning at him. "You looked so proud of yourself."

"Shouldn't I be?" he replied teasingly.

She swallowed hard, slowly bringing her hand out to squeeze his.

He squeezed back hard. "That's what we gotta hang on to, Michaela. All these good memories. Talkin' about it will keep him with us."

"You're right."

"I've been thinkin'," he began carefully, slowly stroking her knee with his thumb. "I've been thinkin' a lot about where I want us to be, where do we go from here now that he's gone."

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.

He took a deep breath. "I've been thinkin' it might help if you and me, we try havin' another baby."

"What? No. Sully, we can't," she immediately said.

"Yes we can. The more I think about it the more right it feels."

"We can't replace him," she said firmly. "We can't just have another baby and expect that to make everything fine, Sully."

"It ain't about replacin' him. It's about movin' on." He kissed her hand. "Jack loved his ma. He'd want his mama to be happy again. He wouldn't begrudge us this."

She paused a long moment, deep in thought. "But…what if we try and….and it doesn't happen?"

"Then at least we'll know we gave it a try."

She met his eyes, struck by his earnestness. Sully believed so strongly it was the right thing to do, and she couldn't bear to disappoint him. "Well, I suppose we could try. See what happens. If this is what you want."

He breathed a soft sigh and drew her into a warm hug. "Good….good."

&&&&

Michaela was disheartened at how uncomfortable and despondent she felt as Sully kissed and caressed her everywhere she had always liked in the past. She tried to pretend everything was fine, that she appreciated his tender ministrations, but as he continued she only felt worse. At last he parted her thighs, caressing her lips with his as he began a slow and patient rhythm. Michaela held onto his back and shut her eyes, biting her lip against what seemed almost painful.

"Sully, Sully please stop," she finally begged. "Sully. Stop."

He opened his eyes, taken aback by her anguished expression. "What's wrong?"

"It doesn't feel right," she said helplessly. She slowly glanced across the room at the empty crib.

He smoothed back her hair lovingly. "Don't feel right? Why?"

"I don't know. It hurts."

"What hurts? I'm hurtin' ya?"

"No. I don't know. Please. Please just stop."

He slowly shifted to his side and drew the covers up around them warmly. "All right. All right. We don't have to. It's all right. Michaela, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just too soon. I can't do this," she said tearfully. She got out of bed and found her nightgown discarded at the end of the bed. She quickly slipped it over her head, doing the buttons up to her chin.

"That's all right. That's fine," he said reassuringly. "We'll wait a few weeks."

"A few weeks. Sully, it's not going to be better in a few weeks. I don't think it'll even be better in a few months. What if it never gets better?"

He reached his hand out and grasped hers, drawing her back to the bed and under the covers. "I know you're still grieving. I am too. But Michaela, it's all right to try to get back to normal. This ain't got anything to do with Jack. We ain't doin' anythin' wrong."

"How can we go back to normal when our baby's…."

Having no answer, he held her to his chest tightly and kissed her damp brow. "I don't know. I don't know."

&&&&

Loren packed cans, sacks of sugar and flour and fresh produce into a large crate as Sully watched quietly at the counter. The groceries had always been Michaela's responsibility, and he felt a little lost. Fortunately, Loren had immediately taken the list Michaela had sent him with and set to work filling it.

Loren glanced one last time at the list. "I think I'm out of baking soda."

"That's all right," Sully murmured.

"Wait, wait. I think there's some up in the stock room. Stay right there," Loren instructed, hurrying across the room and heading up the stairs.

Sully watched him disappear upstairs as Horace entered the store with a stack of mail and a few telegrams.

"Sully, I heard you were in town," Horace said. "Here's your mail."

"I coulda stopped by, Horace."

"No trouble. I was heading this way."

"Thank you," Sully said with appreciation, taking the stack from him and looking through it. There were several letters from Michaela's family and friends back in Boston, no doubt writing her how sorry they were. There were also letters from Colleen, Daniel, and Miriam. Sully couldn't remember the last time they had gotten so much mail at once.

"You take care, Sully," Horace murmured. "All of you."

Sully quickly read the telegrams. One was from Rebecca, expressing her deep sympathy and offering to do whatever she could. The other was from Michaela's mother and was quite long. Elizabeth had written again how worried she was, how much she wanted to come out and see them, and that she was ready to go at a moment's notice. Sully tucked the telegrams and letters in the crate of groceries, sighing. For now, Elizabeth was going to have to wait. Michaela remained adamant she not visit.

"Found it!" Loren called, rejoining Sully and placing a small sack of baking soda in the crate. "That's everything. Comes to three dollars even."

"Can you put it on our account?" Sully asked quietly, picking up the crate.

Loren took out his ledger without hesitation. "Sure, Sully. Don't worry about it. Oh, I put some gumdrops in there for the little ones. No charge."

"Thanks, Loren," he replied, walking out of the store and placing the crate in the back of the wagon.

He glanced at the clinic, letting out a soft sigh. He crossed the street and made his way to the clinic door, ringing the bell.

Andrew opened the door, surprised to see him. "Sully, you don't have to ring. It's Michaela's clinic."

"Didn't wanna disturb ya if you were with a patient."

"Please, come in," he said, guiding him inside and shutting the door.

"Michaela sent me to town to do some errands."

"How's she doing?" he asked with concern. "Is she sleeping any better?"

He swallowed. "She thought I could bring back some chamomile for her. We're out."

"Certainly. I'll get it," he said, quickly walking to a cabinet and pulling down a jar of the herb. "Give this a try, but if the insomnia persists I might recommend something stronger. I'd be happy to come by in the evenings to administer a sedative. Only until she feels better, Sully."

"She really don't want to be takin' things like that. At least not if she don't have to."

"What's it been, a month?" he replied quietly, spooning the herbs onto a thin sheet of paper. "That's a long time without proper rest. And without rest everything you're going through is only compounded."

"We'll think about it," he replied.

He folded the paper tightly and handed it to Sully, then walked to Michaela's desk, picking up the latest medical journal. "Here, this just came last week. Perhaps she'd like to look through it."

He tucked the journal under his arm. "I gotta get going."

"I can come by whenever she needs, Sully. Even if it's the middle of the night. I mean it," Andrew replied, opening the door.

"I appreciate that," he murmured, stepping down from the porch and heading toward the Gazette.

Dorothy's door was open and she was sitting at her desk, busily editing an article.

"Dorothy?" he called softly. "I thought I could bring home a copy of the Gazette for everybody."

Dorothy immediately stood, putting down her pen. "Oh, Sully! I didn't know you were in town. Where's Michaela?" She smiled with relief. "She's back at the clinic! Oh, thank goodness."

He entered the Gazette, slowly shaking his head. "No, she ain't back. She's at home. I'm just in town pickin' up some things for her."

"Oh," she murmured. "Well, it'll take time."

He placed the journal and packet of herbs on her desk, suddenly unable to keep it all together. He bent his head and swallowed hard, eyes welling with tears.

"Oh, Sully," Dorothy murmured. "Oh." She stepped close to him and rubbed his arm.

"Dorothy, she's walkin' around like she don't even see me, the kids. She ain't sleepin'. She ain't been to the clinic, let alone to town. She don't wanna talk. I ain't sure what to do anymore."

"Now, now. You're doing everything just fine," Dorothy said reassuringly. "Sully, it just happened. You've got to let yourselves grieve for awhile. That means you, too, Sully."

"I got money to worry about now, too. She don't wanna work, and I don't wanna make her. But I ain't had a chance to look for some odd jobs I could do to get us through."

Her face lit up, and she turned to her desk and looked through a stack of papers. "Wait, I just got a letter from a friend of mine up in Boulder. He's one of the editors at the Boulder Daily. They're about to expand the office." She found the letter and quickly skimmed it. "Yes, they're putting in a second press. He was just curious if I knew how much folks pay around here for a foreman."

Sully drew in his breath hopefully. "Boulder?"

"I could mention your name to him," Dorothy said. "I know it's far, but it wouldn't take long, would it?"

"I'd have to take a look, but I don't think so. Not if it's just a second press," he replied. He sighed, shaking his head. "No, I couldn't leave Michaela. Not now."

"I'll stay with her," Dorothy replied resolutely. "I'll even spend the nights. I will. You could go up there and make some good money and be back in no time. We'd be fine."

"You'd do that?" he asked, moved.

"Sully, she's my best friend," she said, reaching out and grasping his hand. "You're all dear friends. I want to do more."

"I'll talk to her about it," he said. "Thank you, Dorothy."

She gave him a comforting hug. "I know how devastated Michaela is, and how worried you are about her. But you gotta remember that little boy was your son, too. You're goin' through this, too, and you got a right to grieve, too."

He held her tight, sniffling. "I just want to take care of her. Make her better."

"You'll both get better, in time," she said reassuringly, giving his cheek a sweet kiss.

&&&&

"Hey, kids," Sully called, carrying the crate of groceries inside.

Katie and Byron were doing their homework at the table and Brian and Sarah Sheehan were sitting with them and helping them with the hardest problems.

"Hey, Pa. How was town?" Brian asked.

"Good. You mind unpacking the groceries for me while I unhitch the wagon?"

"Sure thing," Brian said, rising to his feet and taking the crate from him..

"There's some candy in there from Mr. Bray," Sully said, tugging gently on one of Katie's braids. "You'll have to thank him next time you see him."

"Oh, goodie," Byron said, putting down his pencil and following Brian.

"Your ma still sleepin'?" Sully asked.

"She's in the barn taking care of Flash," Byron explained. "She said I couldn't help cause my homework's not done."

"In the barn?" Sully asked with surprise. It had been quite a while since Michaela had been able to muster up any energy to look after Flash. She had always doted on the mare in the past, favoring her well over any of their other animals, but since Jack died she had all but lost interest in her beloved horse.

Brian gave him an equally perplexed shrug and entered the kitchen with the crate as Sully walked back outside and shut the door behind him.

"Where's the candy?" Byron asked, climbing up on the kitchen table and looking through the crate.

"Mr. Bray's so nice," Katie said as she and Sarah joined the boys in the kitchen.

Brian unpacked several of the cans and handed them to Sarah as the children found the parcel of gumdrops and helped themselves to several of them.

"Ma's gonna be mad if you spoil dinner," Brian warned them, placing a bundle of carrots on the counter.

"She won't," Katie whispered. "She doesn't care anymore."

"Yeah, we can do anything and she won't notice," Byron added, reaching into the crate and pulling out several of the letters. "Look at all this mail!" He pointed at the writing on one of the envelopes. "To Mama and Papa."

"It doesn't say that, silly!" Katie exclaimed.

"How do you know? You can't read cursive either," Byron said defensively.

Brian glanced at the return address, handing another can to Sarah. "Looks like that's from Ma's sister Claudette. You never met her."

"Auntie Claudette. I'm gonna open it," Byron said, struggling to tear open the thick envelope.

"Hey, put that down. You can't do that," Brian told him. "It's a federal offense to open somebody else's mail."

"It's also a little impolite," Sarah said with a smile as she stacked the cans on the shelf.

Byron grudgingly dropped the letter on the table and crossed his arms. "I was just trying to help," he muttered. "Sides, Mama won't read it anyway so I think somebody should."

"Hey, a telegram," Katie said, discovering one of the yellow pieces of paper and unfolding it. "'Dear Michaela.'"

"Gran'ma!" Brian, Katie and Byron all said at the same time.

Katie tapped each word with her finger, struggling hard to read it. "Look, it says, 'I can come vi…visit any…time. Just….say the…word."

"Yippie! Gran'ma's comin'!" Byron exclaimed.

Brian shared a smile with Sarah as they finished unpacking the groceries.

&&&&

Sully entered the barn, leading his horse inside. Michaela was in Flash's stall, brushing her down with a curry comb, just as the children had said.

"Oh, you're back earlier than I thought," Michaela said with a small smile.

"Didn't expect to find ya in here," he replied, entering the stall next to her and unbuckling the bridle from his horse.

"Flash was missing me," she replied, patting her horse's neck. "I thought I'd visit."

He made sure the horse had oats and plenty of water, then patted its side and backed out of the stall.

"Did Loren have everything on my list?" she asked.

"Yep. It's inside. I ran into Grace. She sent me home with another pie."

"Oh. That was nice of her."

He gestured at her horse. "Wanna go for a ride with me? I'll saddle Flash for ya."

"No, I don't really feel like doing that."

"She could use the exercise, Michaela."

She lowered her eyes. "Maybe some other time."

He removed his gloves, hesitant to bring up what he knew he should talk about with her right away. "I stopped by Dorothy's. She sends her best."

Michaela nodded, running the currycomb down Flash's back.

"A friend of hers in the newspaper business, up in Boulder, he's lookin' to expand his office. Gonna put in a second press I think. She said she could mention my name to him."

"Why would she do that?" Michaela replied briskly.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Because she's our friend, wants to help us out. It's a small expansion. I think it would only take a few weeks. Bet the pay'd be real good, could hold us for awhile."

She stopped combing. "No, I don't think you should go."

He stepped closer to her. "Michaela, I had to put all those groceries today on credit. If you don't wanna go back to the clinic, then in the meantime I gotta start sayin' yes to jobs like this that come along."

"I'm not ready to go back. I told you that."

"I know, and that's all right with me. Ya got every right to want to stay close to home for awhile. But we got a family to support. We need the money from that job. We gotta pay Loren somethin' before he stops givin' us credit, and we still owe Robert E. for those repairs he did on the wagon last month."

"Sully, you can't leave me here for two weeks," she said desperately, putting the curry comb down. "I can't do this by myself."

"What're ya talkin' about? Ya only have to drive the kids to school, that's all. Brian'll help ya with the chores, with cookin' the meals. And Dorothy said she could come spend the nights with ya. The kids wake ya won't even have to get up."

"No, it's too overwhelming," she said, shaking her head.

He sighed. "All right, I'll ask Robert E. if he can come bring the kids to school. This don't have to be hard on ya. We got plenty of folks who want to help us out if we just ask."

"It's not that, I just," she stammered, grappling to explain. "I just don't want you to leave. I want you to stay with me."

He pursed his lips, approaching her and grasping her shoulders. "What is it that's scarin' ya? Tell me." He struggled to pinpoint her hesitation. "Michaela, we had somethin' bad happen to us. But it don't mean more bad things are gonna happen. I'll be all right. I been away lots of times before."

"What if I have that nightmare again?" she said worriedly. "The one where he's crying, but I can't get to him? Where he's….he's buried alive?" She bent her head, suddenly feeling sick again.

"It's normal after somethin' like this," he murmured. "They'll go away."

"Sully, I can't sleep unless you're next to me. Please, please don't leave me. I need you." She embraced him and held him desperately. "Please don't leave me. I'll go back to the clinic, I'll go back. I'll do anything you want. Just don't go."

He rocked her, kissing her head. "Hey, hey, it's all right. It's all right. I won't go. I'll stay here as long as ya need."

"Oh, Sully. I'm so sorry I'm like this," she said dejectedly. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Don't say sorry," he whispered reassuringly. "We gotta accept we ain't gonna feel ourselves for awhile, and that's all right." He kissed her. "Ya don't gotta go to the clinic. Not until you're ready."

"What will we do in the meantime?" she replied softly. "I know how you don't like to put things on credit."

"Don't worry about it. I'll figure it out. Shh, I'm stayin'. I won't leave ya."

&&&&

"Mama, Gran'ma's comin'! Gran'ma's comin'!" Byron cried the moment Michaela and Sully returned from the barn.

Katie and Byron rushed to her and hugged her.

"Gran'ma sent a telegram. She wants to visit!" Katie explained, holding up the telegram.

"Auntie Claudette wrote, too," Byron added impatiently. "Can I open it? Please?"

Michaela quickly read the telegram, face solemn. "No. We're not going to have her come."

Byron's face immediately fell. "But, why? But she said she can."

Sully quietly took off his jacket and hung it up.

"We can't be entertaining guests right now, that's all," Michaela said, dropping the telegram on the table, walking to the kitchen and finding a large pot beneath the sink to boil water in to start supper.

Brian slowly approached her as Sarah lingered behind him.

"But it's just Gran'ma, Ma," Brian said. "She don't need to be entertained."

Sarah cleared her throat timidly. "She did sound like she really wants to see you, Dr. Mike."

Michaela put the pot beneath the pump and began filling it with water, not replying.

"No fair," Byron said sulkily. "She should come if she wants!"

"I miss Gran'ma so much. I want her here," Katie added sadly.

"You heard your ma," Sully spoke up helpfully. "Gran'ma'll visit some other time."

"I'll write her myself and tell her to come," Byron added defiantly.

Michaela suddenly spun around to face him. "You'll do no such thing, young man!" she said tersely.

Startled, Byron backed up, eyes welling with tears.

Michaela swallowed. "That's the third telegram Grandma's sent in the past month. I've already told her now's not a good time. She's just going to have to accept that and be patient."

Byron sighed. "But-"

"Enough, Byron," she said, cutting him off. "Not another word about it!"

"I like Gran'ma better. She's not mean," Byron whispered, turning around and trudging upstairs.

Michaela sighed and put the pot on the stove to heat up.

"I gotta go," Sarah said awkwardly.

"But I thought you were stayin' for supper," Brian protested.

"I better not," she replied. "I'll see you later, Brian. Bye, Katie."

"Let me drive ya home," Brian quickly offered.

"Oh, no, I'm all right," she replied, grabbing her shawl off the table and quickly exiting out the back door.

Brian rested his hands on the table and let out a deep sigh. "Do ya have to yell at him in front of Sarah?" he asked quietly.

Michaela grabbed the bundle of carrots off the counter and washed them under the pump. "I wasn't yelling. And speaking of Sarah she's over here far too often as it is. You invite her for supper at least twice a week and to Sunday dinner as well and I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"What? But ya told me ya like Sarah. Ya said yourself she could come over whenever she wants."

"It's different now, Brian," she replied. "I don't want a lot of people in and out of the house. I want to keep things quiet. I'll let you borrow the wagon to go over to the Sheehans if she really wants to see you."

Brian stared at her resolutely. "Sarah didn't come just to see me. She came to help Katie and Byron with their schoolwork cause you never want to do anything with them anymore." He walked out of the room and grabbed his jacket and gloves off the rack. "I got chores," he said, opening the door and shutting it firmly.

Michaela turned back around and grabbed the edge of the sink, lowering her head and leaning over it. Her back shuddered and moments later she let out a soft sob.

Katie looked at Sully helplessly. He tentatively approached Michaela and laid his hand on her back.

"Why was I so hard on them?" she said, shaking her head and sniffling.

"Michaela, you're tired. All of us are. It happens."

"He's right. I haven't been there for the children. For anyone."

"Hey, nobody expects that now," Sully said reassuringly. "That's what good friends like Sarah are here for."

Katie walked to her and held up her little handkerchief. "Here, Mama. Hankie."

"Oh, sweetheart," Michaela murmured, dabbing at her tears. "I'm sorry Mama's upset."

"It's all right, Mama. You don't mean it," Katie whispered, hugging her waist lovingly.

Michaela stroked Katie's hair and leaned against Sully. The more she struggled to pull herself together, the more hopeless she felt.

&&&&

"Good afternoon, Horace," Andrew said, stepping up to the telegraph window. The train had just arrived and passengers were disembarking and gathering their luggage.

"Afternoon, Dr. Cook," Horace replied as he sorted through the mail bag.

"Did those medicines I ordered for the clinic arrive? Michaela's almost out of practically everything."

"Right here," Horace said, grabbing a brown wrapped package on the counter and handing it to him. "How's Dr. Mike doing? She still hasn't come to town."

"I stopped by to see her the other day," he said quietly. "At least she was out of bed."

He nodded. "Well, when you see her again, tell her we all miss her around here."

"I'll do that," he replied.

"Excuse me, mister," a young woman spoke up, tapping Andrew on the shoulder.

Andrew turned to see a pretty by very frail looking young woman. He hair was a striking deep red, curly, and she had mysterious glassy blue eyes. Holding her hand was a little boy no more than eight, with much darker hair, eyes and skin. Andrew was taken aback by the contrast.

"Can I help you?" he finally asked.

"I'm looking for Jason Randolph. Last I heard he was still living around these parts."

Andrew cleared his throat. "Well, he was, yes. But Mr. Randolph passed away last year. He had a heart attack."

She paused, face falling. At last she slowly nodded. "All right. All right, thank you kindly."

"Did you know him?"

"I'm his daughter," she murmured.

"Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry," Andrew said.

"No, it's all right. We hadn't spoken in seven years," she replied, glancing at her child and caressing his dark hair.

The little boy tugged on her hand, looking up at her with concern. "Mama, you gotta lay down." "Come on, darlin'. Let's get something to eat first. Could you tell me where we can get something to eat, mister?"

"Grace's Café," Andrew said. "Just down the road. Are you all right, ma'am?"

"I'm fine," she said dismissively.

Andrew watched with concern as she stepped gingerly down the platform. The boy put his arm around her waist to steady her. He was obviously used to taking care of her. She took a few more tentative steps, then suddenly swooned and fell to her knees with a soft groan.

"Mama!" the boy cried, grabbing her arms.

Andrew ran to the two. "Horace, help me get her to the clinic!" he shouted.

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Andrew listened to the young woman's heart, his expression grave. The dark skinned little boy stood beside his mother, stroking her hair soothingly and holding her hand.

"I've already seen a doctor. Two actually. In Helena. Cancer of the ovary, they told me," the woman explained. "They gave me an operation, couple weeks back. But it was too late."

"I see," Andrew replied quietly. He put his stethoscope around his neck and gently pressed down on her abdomen. "Painful?"

She nodded bravely. "You have a nice office," she remarked, glancing around. "Much nicer than the one in Helena."

"Actually, it's not mine," Andrew explained, carefully probing her torso further. "This is Dr. Quinn's clinic. I'm only filling in for her temporarily."

"Oh, why's that? Is she ill?" she asked.

He hesitated, stepping back and grabbing a blank chart. "No, she…she recently lost her youngest child. Last month. He was just a baby. We're all hoping she'll come back to town soon."

"Oh, how sad," she said, glancing at her son and squeezing his hand.

"That's sad," the little boy added.

"A woman doctor. That's something. I'd like to meet her," she remarked.

Andrew wrote a few things on the chart. "I'm going to prescribe a few tonics and herbs that I hope will make you more comfortable, Mrs….?"

"Just Hattie. Hattie Randolph."

"I'm Dr. Cook," he said. He smiled briefly at the boy. "And what's your name?"

"It's Re….Mark, I mean. Mark."

"Do you think you could keep your mother company down here, Mark? I need to go upstairs and prepare one of the recovery rooms for her."

"Yes, sir," the little boy replied.

Andrew looked at Hattie, gently touching her shoulder. "As you probably know, you're going to grow weaker very fast. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. I'll do what I can to help you with the pain."

"Much obliged, Dr. Cook," she replied. "We'll stay here. At least until I figure out what to do next."

"I'll just be a few minutes," he said, heading for the stairs.

&&&

Andrew pulled up his buggy to the front of the homestead. Sully and Byron were sitting on the front steps, oiling some tackle with rags and a large can of grease.

"Hey, Dr. Cook," Byron called.

Andrew walked up the stairs and ruffled his hair. "Hey, Byron. Sully, is Michaela inside?"

He nodded. "Something wrong?"

"Jason Randolph's daughter showed up in town today," Andrew said, folding his arms. "She rode the train in from Montana."

"Hattie Randolph?" Sully replied in disbelief.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh. You know her?"

"Heard of her," Sully said quietly. "She have a child with her?"

"Yes actually. Looked to me like a half breed. They're at the clinic."

Sully nodded. "Somethin' wrong with her?"

"She has cancer. I thought I could try to convince Michaela to take a look at her. It's not that there's much anyone can do for the woman short of giving her medicine for the pain. But I was hoping maybe this might interest Michaela enough to come back to the clinic."

"I see what you mean. She's startin' supper. Why don't ya try talkin' to her?"

Byron watched Andrew walk inside. "What's a half breed, Papa?" he asked.

"It means his ma's white, his pa's Indian," Sully explained.

"Oh, is that all?"

He smiled. "Yep. Listen, half breed ain't a real nice word to use, all right? I don't want you to say that."

"All right, Papa. I won't."

Sully kissed his head and they went back to work.

"Michaela?" Andrew called, tentatively entering the kitchen.

Michaela glanced at him from the stove where she was stirring something in a large pot.

"Oh, Andrew. Can you join us for supper? I cooked plenty of stew."

"It smells good but no, I can't stay. I was just wondering if I could talk to you about a patient."

She reluctantly stopped stirring and turned from the stove, drying her hands on her apron. "Of course."

"Jason Randolph's daughter is at the clinic."

"I didn't know he had a daughter."

"Neither did I. Her name's Hattie. She can't be more than thirty. And she's very sick. Ovarian cancer."

Her interest piqued, she slowly sat down. "What are her symptoms?"

"Weight loss, fatigue, jaundice. Vomiting and diarrhea. Abdominal discomfort."

She nodded. "It sounds very advanced."

"She had surgery last month that was unsuccessful. It had already spread too far. She probably only has a few weeks at most."

"Oh, that's terrible," she remarked quietly, folding her hands. "Well, make sure she gets as much morphine as she needs. And tea might settle her stomach."

"Michaela, I could use your help with this," he replied.

"I can't do anything more than you can," she said dismissively. "Just try to make her comfortable and-"

"Michaela, she has a child. A little boy. Probably seven years old."

"Seven?" she replied in disbelief.

"You know as well as I these last few weeks are going to be very difficult for her. She's likely to grow so weak she won't be able to do anything for herself. There's certain things I…I'm just trying to say I think she would really appreciate having another woman there to help her."

She lowered her eyes pensively.

"You're so good with things like this," Andrew added. "I never know what to say. But you could make these last few days better for her. And for her child." He circled the table and grasped her shoulder. "Michaela, there is a patient at the clinic who needs you. Please, come back to your practice."

She took a deep, brave breath, looking back up. "All right. Tell her I'll come examine her tomorrow morning."

&&&&&

"Good stew, Ma," Brian spoke up, scraping his plate clean.

"Real good, Michaela," Sully added.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"What're we going to do tomorrow?" Byron asked, sipping his milk. "Can we play baseball?"

"Maybe we could go on a picnic," Katie suggested hopefully. "Could we, Mama?"

"Actually, I'm going to go into the clinic tomorrow," Michaela said, taking a small bite of stew.

"You are?" Brian said in disbelief.

"Yes. Andrew needs help with a patient there who's sick."

"I want to come," Katie spoke up.

"Me, too," Byron said. "Please, Mama?"

Michaela glanced at Sully, who nodded his approval.

"Well, I suppose you could come," she said. "If you promise to stay quiet. She's very ill."

"We'll be real quiet," Katie promised. "Quieter than mice."

"Quieter than mice," Byron said enthusiastically. "Now what's for dessert?"

Michaela couldn't help but chuckle as Sully stood up.

"I think we got a few gumdrops somewhere," he said, circling around Michaela and pausing to give her a soft kiss. "Can I come too?"

"Let's all go," she said with a smile.

&&&&&

Sully roused, breathing in the cool night air. He propped himself up on his elbow to check on the fire. Only a few red coals remained. As his eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight, he glanced at Michaela, disappointed to see her eyes open and staring off into the distance.

"Michaela, you still awake?" he whispered, caressing her arm lovingly.

She met his eyes, blinking. "Hm?"

"Michaela, it's almost mornin'," he said, stroking her arm sympathetically. "You slept at all? Let me get ya somethin'."

She sighed. "Nothing helps."

"Hate to know you're like this while I'm sleepin'," he murmured guiltily, grasping her hand and softly kissing it a few times. "Ya comfortable at least?"

"I suppose it's a little cold," she replied.

He crawled over her and got out of bed, walking to the fire and stirring it with the poker.

She shifted to face him, tucking one hand under her cheek. "Sully, do you want a boy or a girl this time?"

He glanced back at her, taken off guard. "I don't know. Guess I hadn't thought about it."

"I was just thinking I'd like a boy. Then his middle name could be Jack."

He dropped another log on the fire. "So you still wanna do this? Michaela, if ya ain't ready…"

She reached her arm out to him and he quickly walked to her and knelt beside the bed, grabbing her hand. "Sully, I'm sorry about what happened when we tried to make love. It was my fault. It frightened me how different it felt. Like we were doing something wrong."

"No, it was just too soon is all," he whispered back.

She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. "We've always been so good together. The thought of that changing frightens me."

"So maybe we're gonna have to work at it," he replied reassuringly. "But I don't mind if you don't."

"I feel like everything around me is changing. Sometimes I can't bear it."

"What ain't gonna change is how much I love you," he whispered tenderly, kissing her.

She caressed his cheek. "I think I could sleep now. I feel better."

He got in beside her and drew her into his arms. "A boy, huh? Ya sure you want another boy?"

"Yes, I've decided."

He chuckled. "You remember how bad that winter was when you were pregnant with Jack?"

"Oh, yes. We were snowed in more than once, weren't we?"

"The nights were so cold, you'd get right up against me to keep warm and I could feel him kickin' against my chest so hard I kept wakin' up."

"I don't know why you didn't push me away," she said with a grin.

"I wanted to." He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Big day tomorrow. Close your eyes. Sleep."

&&&&&

Michaela unlocked the clinic door and stepped inside, the rest of the family following behind her.

"Place looks good," Sully remarked.

"The windows could use some washing though," Brian remarked. "Want us to start on that, Ma?"

"Yes please," she said, glancing around timidly.

"Just take it slow, Michaela," Sully said softly, caressing her back. "Nobody's rushin' you."

She nodded, removing her jacket and hanging it on the rack. Then she walked to her desk and found Hattie's medical chart in the middle of the desk where Andrew had left it for her. "I'd best check on my new patient," she replied. She opened the door to the stairs. Sweet singing filled the stairwell. She followed the sound to the front recovery room.

Hattie and her son were sitting in bed together, arms around each other as they finished singing a hymn.

"Just as I am, Thou wilt receive, Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve; Because Thy promise I believe, O Lamb of God, I come, I come."

Hattie smiled and kissed him. "That was beautiful, Red Eagle."

Michaela cleared her throat. "Hattie? I'm Dr. Mike. Dr. Cook told me you were here."

Hattie glanced at her and extended her hand. "Oh. Nice to meet you." She gave her son another kiss. "My boy Mark."

Michaela shook the child's hand. She was surprised at his dark complexion, but did nothing to show it. "Good morning, Mark."

He smiled shyly. "Howdy, ma'am."

Michaela sat in a chair beside the bed. "I was your father's doctor. I'm sorry for you loss."

"Dr. Cook said it was a heart attack."

"Yes, last Christmas. He lived a few days before he passed on."

"Mama, Katie and I want to go play in the meadow!" Byron shouted, storming into the room. "Do we have to help wash windows?"

"Byron, what did I tell you about being quiet this morning?" Michaela said with a sigh.

He covered his mouth with one hand. "Uh oh. I forgot."

"This is my little handful," Michaela said, putting her arm around her son lovingly. "This is Byron. I'd like you to meet Mark, Byron. And Miss Randolph."

"Wanna come play with us?" Byron asked, extending his hand to the other little boy.

The boy's mouth dropped open in shock and he looked at his mother. "Can I, Mama?"

"You may. If it's all right with Dr. Mike," Hattie replied.

"It's all right. But try not to get too dirty," Michaela said.

Mark jumped down from the bed. "I'll come play. If you want me to."

"Sure, we can go on the sea saw," Byron said, grabbing his hand and heading to the door.

"What's a sea saw?"

"You don't got sea saws where you're from?" Byron asked.

"Nope," he replied.

"Go show him, Byron," Michaela said as the boys hurried out of the room. She turned back to Hattie, surprised to find her in tears. "Hattie? Hattie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just, no one's ever asked him to come play before," she murmured. "Usually children are too busy calling him names, throwing pebbles at him, to want to play with him."

She opened Hattie's chart and read Andrew's notes. "Dr. Cook told me about the cancer. When was your surgery?"

"'Bout a month ago," Hattie replied. "I'd been feelin' real poorly for awhile, but I keep puttin' it off. I didn't want to drag my son all the way to the city so I could see a good doctor. Finally I just knew something was terribly wrong so we had to go."

"What did he tell you after the surgery?" Michaela asked.

"That I best start takin' care of any unfinished business," she whispered.

Michaela patted her hand sympathetically. "I'd like to examine you if you don't mind. Then I'll see what we can do to make you as comfortable as possible."

&&&&&

"How long do I have?" Hattie asked as Michaela packed her instruments back into her medical bag.

"I'm not sure," Michaela replied hesitantly, avoiding her eyes.

"Dr. Mike, I need to know. I got my child to think about."

Michaela slowly met her eyes. "I'm afraid that long train ride weakened you greatly. A few weeks at most. It might be a few days. I'm sorry, Hattie."

"Could you find my boy, send him in?" she asked. "There's quite a bit I got to say to him before I go."

&&&&&

"How's Mama?" Mark asked as Michaela walked him from the meadow back toward the clinic.

"Well, she's…she's doing well this morning," Michaela said cheerfully.

"She already told me she's dying," he said, taking a deep breath. "It's all right, you don't have to pretend."

She put her arm around him. "You can help your mama by letting her know how much you love her, and listening carefully to everything she wants to tell you."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, swallowing hard.

"You're a brave boy, Red Eagle," she said.

He looked up at her with surprise. "Red Eagle? But…"

"That's what I heard your mother calling you, wasn't it?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am. But we're supposed to use Mark when we're not at home."

"Well, which would you prefer I call you?" she asked.

He looked up at her dumbfounded. "Well, I guess Red Eagle would be good. If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," she said with a smile as they reached the clinic door. "Go on upstairs now. She's waiting for you."

Red Eagle scurried to the door, then paused and turned around, grabbing the frame. "Dr. Cook said you didn't come to your hospital anymore because your baby died," he remarked.

Taken off guard, Michaela managed to nod.

"I'm glad you came back to see my mama," he replied. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she murmured, sinking into her bench outside as Red Eagle scurried past Sully and Brian and rushed up the stairs.

Sully joined Michaela outside a moment later, a damp towel in one hand.

"His father must be Indian," she said, glancing at him. "Did you see how dark he is?"

"I saw," he said quietly.

"She calls him Red Eagle," she added.

"It's a good name," he remarked, joining her on the bench.

"I wonder who his father is. You don't suppose he's Cheyenne."

Sully shrugged, glancing out at the street as a wagon rolled by. "Looks to me like she's been raisin' him up white."

"Yes, I think so. He dresses just like all the other children, and this morning they were singing a hymn together."

"She say who she wants to look after him once she passes?"

"No, she didn't mention it. I have a feeling she doesn't know. I suspect she came here hoping to leave him with Mr. Randolph. Now he's gone and I don't remember him having any other family."

"Best talk to the Reverend, have him stop by. She may need his help."

"He's half Indian Sully. If she doesn't have any other family….I don't know what's going to happen to him."

"How long she have?"

"She can't keep anything down. Not even water. She's going to go fast." She folded her hands resolutely. "I'll stay here at the clinic, until she goes. I want to be here for her. And for him."

&&&&&

Michaela pulled the wagon up to the front of the homestead. Sully and Brian were in the corral, tending to the early morning chores. They waved and walked up to her.

"Weren't expectin' ya," Sully remarked. "How's Hattie?"

"She was fairly stable last night. She and Red Eagle are both sleeping. I thought I could come home for a few hours, give the children their baths and get ready for church."

Brian glanced at Sully in disbelief, putting down a bucket of water. "Church. But we ain't been since…"

"I know, and I think it's time we start going again. It's been too long." She noted his soiled clothes. "You need a bath, too, young man. Why don't you go inside and start preparing the tub."

"Yes ma'am," Brian said, heading up the stairs.

Sully reached his arms up and helped her down from the wagon. "Kids'll be glad to go. They've missed church."

"They miss the picnics and games afterward is what they miss," she said, giving him a grin as she turned and followed Brian inside.

Michaela made her way upstairs to the children's rooms. Sully had opened their doors and Byron and Katie were both in bed, slowly rousing.

"Time to get up," Michaela called.

"Mama?" Katie replied. She quickly got out of bed, running to Michaela and hugging her. "I thought you were staying at the clinic."

"I came back to change for church," she replied, grasping her hand and leading her into Byron's room.

"We're going to church?" Katie asked.

Michaela sat on Byron's bed and hugged him. "Yes, and you both need baths before we go. Good morning, sweetheart."

"I thought you didn't like church anymore, Mama," Byron said.

"It's not that. I just…it's been difficult to want to get ready and go into town," Michaela admitted.

Byron scratched his nose. "Oh, I thought maybe you were mad at God."

"Well, maybe a little. But mostly just sad."

"Me, too."

"Me, too," Katie echoed.

"I know, and it's all right to be sad. When someone so special to us dies we're going to feel lots of sadness for a long time. But, when we're ready, we can still try to do the things we used to do before. Things like going to school, church, going to the clinic."

"Did Red Eagle's mama die yet?" Byron asked.

"No, she's still with us," Michaela said, kissing him lovingly.

"How many more days will she live?" he went on.

"I don't know for sure. Maybe another week."

"Red Eagle must feel so sad, his mama dying," Katie remarked despondently, sitting on the bed beside Michaela.

"I think you understand some of that sadness he's feeling, don't you?" Michaela stroked the little girl's hair.

Katie nodded solemnly.

"But you're really helping him. You're so kind to him and include him when you play," Michaela went on, "and you help him not worry so much about his mother. Most children wouldn't do that."

"But why? He's fun to play with," Byron said.

"It's because he's Indian, right Mama?" Katie said. "We have white skin but his skin is darker, like Cloud Dancin'."

"Oh. Never thought of that," Byron murmured.

Michaela caressed his shoulder, struck by his innocence. "But that's the outside. What matters is what's inside, what kind of heart you have. And you two have wonderful hearts." She kissed them each. "Now let's get ready to go into town. It's time to go back to church."

&&&&&

"Hattie, I'm back," Michaela said, knocking on the recovery room door and opening it. "I'm just going to walk over to church with my family. I'll be back in a few hours." She paused as Hattie slowly tied Red Eagle's navy blue tie. He was dressed in a little suit and polished shoes. "Oh, Red Eagle, you look very nice," Michaela murmured.

"This tie always chokes me," he said, rubbing his neck.

"You keep that tie on this mornin', young man," Hattie told him. "Dr. Mike, would you mind takin' him to church with ya'll? I'm too weak to go myself."

Michaela stepped forward and grasped the little boy's hand. "Why, of course. If that's what you want."

"Be good, Red Eagle," Hattie said. "Don't speak unless spoken to. And pay attention to the sermon so you can tell me about it."

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured.

"See you soon," she replied, resting her head back against her pillows and closing her eyes.

"We'll take good care of him," Michaela said, leading the little boy out of the room and downstairs.

&&&&&

The Reverend was greeting people outside as they headed into church. Sully trailed behind Michaela and the children, face set in a stern expression. Several townsfolk stopped and stared at the dark little boy holding Michaela's hand as they approached.

"Good morning, Reverend," Michaela said, shaking his hand.

"Michaela?" he said, grasping her hand with both of his and smiling with relief. "Oh, Michaela, it's so good you could come this morning. How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right, thank you. And I brought a friend," Michaela said. "This is…Mark. His mother is Hattie Randolph."

"Hattie Randolph's in town?" Loren questioned in disbelief.

"Mornin', preacher," Red Eagle said quietly.

The Reverend's smile faded. "You mean, this is Jason's grandson?"

"What're you doin' bringing him here, Dr. Mike?" Jake asked, eyeing the child. "Thought Injuns don't believe in God."

"Shouldn't he have a day pass?" Loren added.

"Loren," Dorothy scolded quietly.

Michaela put her arm around Red Eagle protectively. "Come on, let's go inside."

Katie, Byron, Brian and Red Eagle were tossing a baseball together near the picnic blankets. All the other children were at the opposite end of the meadow, playing leap frog, having no desire to include the Sully children and their new friend.

"Maybe I should walk him back to his ma," Sully said as he helped Michaela take out a stack of plates from their picnic basket and place them around their quilt.

"But he's having fun here with the children," Michaela protested, taking out a stack of napkins. "Sully, what are you so upset about? Is it because of how the townsfolk reacted?"

"It ain't that. I knew they weren't gonna like the idea."

"Then what's wrong? Please, tell me."

He hesitated a moment longer. "It's bringin' him to church," he finally admitted. "What about his Indian roots? He know anything about what his people believe?"

"He's part white, too, Sully. His mother is Christian. What about those roots?" She took out a bowl of fried chicken and uncovered it. "Sully, I don't think his father is around. Hattie hasn't mentioned him. He could be dead. Who's going to give him guidance about what the Indians believe? We don't even know what tribe he was from."

"It just don't sit right with me."

"You never objected when I wanted to raise our children Christian."

He took the bowl of chicken from her and put it in the center of the blanket. "That's different. Our children are white. And I've told them everything I know about the Cheyenne, so they'll know about that part of our lives, too."

Michaela shielded her eyes and looked out at the children, laughing and enjoying themselves as they played. "Sully, I don't know what the right thing is to do. If he were completely Indian of course I would agree he should practice the religion of his tribe. And if he were white I would say he should certainly come to church. But he's both. There's no easy answer for a child caught between two worlds."

"It's just too bad his pa ain't around, could teach him things he needs," he murmured.

"Well, I think Hattie's done a fine job raising him by herself given the circumstances. I can't imagine being all on my own out there in the middle of nowhere with a child so young."

"Hattie ain't gonna be alive for much longer. What's gonna happen to him then?"

She glanced back at him. "I don't know."

He rose to his feet. "I'll get the kids. Time to eat."

&&&&&

Sully ascended the stairs. "Brian!" he called.

"In here, Pa," Brian called back from the master bedroom.

Perplexed, Sully entered the room. Brian was crouched beside Jack's crib. He had taken out the mattress and blankets and put them aside and was prying out a nail with the back of a hammer. He had already removed one end of the crib and had propped it against the fireplace. Sully watched him work for a moment.

"Your ma ask ya to do that?" he finally said.

He nodded solemnly. "She said she don't care what I do with it, she just wants it gone."

"Ya need some help?" Sully asked.

"No, I got it. I figured I should bring it up to the barn loft, cover it with a tarp."

Sully pointed one thumb behind him. "I'm gonna take the kids into town a few hours. Check on your ma and see how that patient of hers is doin'. Ya wanna come?"

He pried another nail out. "No thanks. I'll finish this and catch up on the chores here."

Sully stepped closer to him and rested one hand on the edge of the crib. "You know, your ma really appreciates your help with this. We both appreciate how helpful ya been this past month. Don't know how we'd do it without ya."

Brian glanced up at him. "Just wanna be here for the kids, for Ma is all."

"You know, it's all right to be upset about this, too. Ya miss him?" Sully whispered.

Brian slowly sat back and rested one arm across his knee. "I don't know. Sometimes." He smiled softly. "He had just learned to say my name. He said it for the first time about three days before he passed on."

"That's right. He loved his big brother."

"Bein' a big brother to Katie and Byron, that's been one of the best things I could ever ask for. I guess I was just lookin' forward to Jack bein' a part of that, too. Teachin' him things like I teach Katie and Byron. Now, it's all changed."

Sully bent his head. "Yeah, I know."

"Ma's been takin' it real hard," Brian murmured worriedly. "Real hard."

"She's back at the clinic now," Sully replied reassuringly. "Things can get better now."

&&&&&

Michaela tucked a clean sheet under the mattress and Byron and Red Eagle finished putting fresh pillow cases on Hattie's pillows.

"All right, all set," Michaela said, glancing at Sully.

Sully carefully lifted Hattie from the chair and carried her back to the bed. "Here ya go," he murmured, placing her against the soft pillows.

Hattie groaned softly as Michaela covered her.

"Water?" Michaela asked, smoothing a stray hair from her cool brow. She poured a glass from the pitcher on the night table. "Here. Just try a little."

Hattie took a tiny sip before resting back against the pillows and closing her eyes.

"Mama?" Red Eagle said, touching her arm. "Want me to read to you, Mama?"

Hattie didn't reply, too weak from having to get out of bed so Michaela could change the sheets.

Michaela's bell rang from downstairs. "I'll go see who that is," she said, placing her hands on Byron and Red Eagle's shoulders. "Why don't you both read to her? I'm sure she'd love that."

"I'll help ya pick out a book," Sully said as Michaela left the room.

The Reverend rang the bell again, clutching his walking stick with his free hand.

Michaela opened the door. "Reverend, oh. Good afternoon."

He smiled uncomfortably. "Afternoon."

She guided him inside. "Come inside."

"Michaela, I was so happy you came to church this morning," the Reverend said. "And to have you back in town, back at the clinic. Everyone's glad."

She sighed. "Well, I don't want to do too much too soon. I just came to check on a patient."

"No, no. You should take it easy," the Reverend said. "One thing at a time. But I think you'll find going back to work will help."

"I'm glad you stopped by, Reverend. I was hoping to talk to you about Hattie Randolph."

"Yes, speaking of that," the Reverend said carefully. "I was wondering why you brought her son to church this morning."

"What do you mean why? Because his mother wanted me to."

He chuckled nervously. "Well, yes, but…but he's Indian."

"Yes, I noticed," she replied. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no. Not with me. Just…well, I think you saw folks were a little upset. Folks really think somebody like him shouldn't be coming into our church. So I was thinking it might be better if….if you didn't bring him next Sunday. For his own sake."

She eyed him angrily. "I see. Well, I thought we were supposed to love our neighbors."

"Dr. Mike, I feel sorry for him. I do. But some folks already threatened not to come back if you show up with him again."

"Their loss," she replied intrepidly. "He's coming with us to church as long as that's what his mother wants. And I want him to start going to school, too."

"School?! I don't know how Mrs. Slicker's going to like that."

"It's not up to her," she retorted. "Reverend, his mother is upstairs dying. Couldn't we all just be a little patient about this for the time being?"

"Dying? What's wrong with her?"

"Cancer," Michaela murmured. "I don't think she'll live out the week."

"Oh, that's just terrible," he replied. "Well, I…I should go up and talk with her. If she wants."

"She's a devout Christian, Reverend," Michaela explained. "I'm sure she would really appreciate that."

"Certainly. If you'll show me the way."

She grasped his arm and led him to the stairs.

&&&&&

"Let not your heart be troubled. Ye believe in God, believe also in me," the Reverend recited, his hands clasped tightly in prayer. "In my Father's house there are many mansions. If it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." He reached his hand out and laid it on Hattie's head. "If you repent, the Lord will forgive your sins and welcome you into heaven. The Lord's preparing a place for you, Hattie."

She slowly opened her eyes. "Thank you, Preacher. That gives me comfort," she whispered.

He removed his hand and leaned back in the chair. "Is there any unfinished business you'd like to talk about? Anything I can help you with?"

"Only one thing," she replied. "My son."

"Yes, of course. Do you have any family? Brothers, sisters?"

"None alive. My two sisters died of the fever when we were children."

"And what of your hu….the boy's father?"

"Passed on."

"Oh. Perhaps some friends?"

"Friends have been hard to come by. Not since he was born," she replied solemnly.

"That's unfortunate," the Reverend murmured. "Well, there's a wonderful orphanage in Denver run by the Catholics. I know the director. They'll give him schooling, religious training. I think he would do well there."

She shook her head. "No. No orphanage. I can't bear the thought of sending him to a place like that."

"Well, Hattie, you said yourself you have no kin. What exactly do you have in mind for him?"

"I was hopin' maybe you could take him out to see some families. Find a good couple around these parts who could take him in."

The Reverend chuckled awkwardly. "Hattie…we've had our share of orphans pass through Colorado Springs. It's hard enough trying to find a family for a white child. Your son is…well, he's Indian. Folks around here….the truth is there's been some bad blood about the Indians. No, I really think the best place for a child like him would be in an orphanage."

"Couldn't you at least try? Maybe once folks see what a hard worker he is, and such a cheerful child…"

"It would be a waste of time. Why, practically the only person around here who's ever adopted is Dr. Mike."

"You mean those youn'uns ain't hers? I never woulda guessed."

"Oh, no, it's just Brian. And his older sister, but she's grown now. Their father was never around and their mother passed away when Brian was about your son's age. That's when Dr. Mike took them in."

"She sure seems like a generous woman," Hattie murmured.

"Well, unfortunately she's the exception around here. I want you to give me permission to take him to the orphanage. Hattie, I promise you this is the best thing to do."

"Well, Reverend, then I guess you can't help me," she replied. "I understand, and I thank you anyway."

to be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four **

"Paregoric," Michaela explained, holding a spoon filled with the medicine to Hattie's lips. "It'll help your stomach."

Hattie sipped the bitter liquid down and closed her eyes tiredly.

"Red Eagle and Byron are fast becoming best friends," Michaela said cheerfully. "Byron was going to teach him how to play checkers today."

"They're sweet together," she remarked. "Your Byron sure has a big heart. Probably the first child we come across that doesn't seem to care what my boy looks like."

"Hattie, do you mind if I ask….what tribe was his father from?"

She slowly opened her eyes, drawing in her breath.

Michaela shifted in her seat. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."

"I don't mind talking about it," Hattie explained. "It's just been so long that anyone cared about his tribe. An Indian's and Indian, right?"

"Not to me," Michaela said.

Hattie took a deep breath. "When I was seventeen I got my teaching certificate. I saw in the newspaper the government needed teachers on the Reservations up north. I took a job on a Crow Reservation in Montana, teaching English and reading and arithmetic to the children. That's where I fell in love with Red Eagle's father."

Michaela nodded, willing her to continue.

"We were real young, the both of us, and all we wanted to do was be together. He talked about going up to Canada somewhere, away from everyone, just as soon as we could save enough for the trip. But then….We never meant to have a baby. At least not until we could move to a place where we could live together and have our family in peace, without people hating us so. We knew we couldn't get married. His people didn't want anything to do with me, and no preacher would let us stand together in front of him. So we had a ceremony ourselves, in secret. With just us and God." She sighed softly. "Wasn't long after that the Bureau found out I was with child and not really married, and I was fired."

"What did you do?" Michaela asked.

"My husband had to go away to work, and he got me a little cabin to live in just inside Yellowstone County where no one knew me, where I'd be safe. Nearest town was twenty miles. So I waited there until he could come back."

"You mean you had the baby alone? All by yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Weren't you terribly frightened?"

She thought back. "I don't know. I suppose. But I had no choice by that time. I reckon I didn't know the first thing about taking care of the infant I'd just given birth to, how to feed him and when, how to diaper him and bathe him, but somehow I figured it all out. I raised him up all on my own, done everything when it comes to him by myself, teach him his lessons and read him some from the Good Book every Sunday. You learn to make do."

"And his father?" Michaela asked, fascinated by the whole story.

She swallowed hard, tears clouding her eyes. "Never did come back. Eventually I got word he was killed."

Michaela gently patted her hand, sensing she didn't want to elaborate. "Well, you've done a fine job raising your son. He's a good boy."

"I came to Colorado Springs hoping to find his grandpappy, to make amends somehow. When my pa found out I was with child, the father was Indian and we weren't legally married on top of it all, he said he never wanted to hear from me again. I thought maybe if we just talked, he could find it in his heart to take in his only grandchild."

"But now he's gone, too," Michaela said softly.

"Dr. Mike, I don't got anybody else to turn to. No other family, no friends. I talked to your Reverend, and he said he would have to put him in an orphanage." She shook her head resolutely. "No, I don't want that. I've heard about orphanages and I don't want him to go to a place like that. I know it's a lot to ask, but could you see to it my boy finds a good home? He's a good child."

"He's a wonderful child…but, Hattie…finding a family willing to take in a…"

"You can say it, a half breed. I know it ain't gonna be easy, but once folks get to know him, they'll see he wouldn't be much trouble at all. I raised him up to pitch in where needed and respect his elders. I just, I won't be able to rest until I know someone's going to make sure he's all right."

Michaela took a deep breath, squeezing her hand. "I'll find your son a home, Hattie. A good home. I promise."

She smiled softly and closed her eyes. "You're a real blessing, Dr. Mike. That you are."

&&&&&

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Slicker," Michaela said as she walked down the aisle at the schoolhouse.

Teresa looked up from grading papers. "Dr. Quinn," she said with surprise. "It is good to see you in town." She put down her pen. "I have been saying many prayers for you and your family."

Michaela nodded solemnly. "Thank you. I'm sorry I had to keep Katie and Byron out of school so much."

"No, it is fine. I will catch them up."

"Actually, I came to talk to you about something else. I'm not sure if you've heard, but I have a patient at my clinic who's very ill, and she has a little boy about Byron's age."

She stacked her papers together neatly. "Senor Randolph's grandson. Yes, I have heard."

"His name is Red Eagle. His mother has been teaching him to read and write, arithmetic and spelling. He's very bright for his age. You should see him recite the multiplication tables. He's even been helping Katie."

Teresa pressed her fingers to her temples, immediately seeing where the conversation was going. "Dr. Quinn, I beg of you, do not put me in this position again."

Michaela stepped closer to her. "Mrs. Slicker, his mother is at my clinic dying. He wouldn't have to sit there thinking about that all day long. And he could be with some children his own age."

"I am very sorry that his mother is so ill, but I will not have a child like that disrupting my classroom. His appearance will be a distraction and he is a bad influence."

"How on earth is he a bad influence?" Michaela demanded.

"Dr. Quinn, he's illegitimate. I will not have the parents of my students thinking I condone such things."

"Then you condone a child going without schooling," Michaela said.

She stood. "I will not do this again, Dr. Quinn. I won't do it. I will go to the town council if I have to if you insist on pursuing this. Now please, don't ask me again."

Michaela let out a deep sigh, then turned and headed for the door. She paused before heading out and looked back at the teacher. "I'm not giving up on this, Mrs. Slicker," she said firmly, turning back around and shutting the door firmly.

&&&&&

Red Eagle sat at the end of the bed and slowly flipped through one of Byron's picture books. Hattie was dozing in and out of consciousness, waking every half hour or so for a little drink of water, to throw up, or just to gaze lovingly at her son. A tray on the nightstand held a pitcher of water and a glass, a nearly empty bottle of morphine and an emesis basin. Red Eagle had bravely sat with his mother most of the day as Michaela came in and out, sensing Hattie wanted him close by.

Hattie opened her eyes again and looked at him.

"What's wrong, Mama?" he whispered. "Do you need the bed pan? Let me get Dr. Mike."

"Come, sit close," she whispered back.

He closed the book and edged up closer, putting his arm around her waist. "You hurting, Mama?"

"I can't hang on much longer, darlin'," she said weakly. "Dr. Mike's got a real pure heart. I want you to help out around the house, with the chores. Don't make this hard on her."

He nodded solemnly. "Yes, ma'am."

"I'm leaving this all up to her. Whatever she decides about where you should end up, I want you to do what she says. She'll do what's best for you. You make the best of what happens, won't you?"

"Yes ma'am," he said hoarsely.

"I'm sorry about all this, darlin'," she said with a sigh. "I never counted on leaving you behind so soon."

He wiped at a fat tear that had fallen down his cheek. "It's all right, Mama. It's not goodbye forever."

"How'd a sinner like me get blessed with such an angel?" she whispered, softly smiling up at him.

He crouched down, kissed her brow and held her hand as he cried silently.

&&&&&

"She threatened to go to the town council if I didn't back down," Michaela said, pacing the front room of the clinic impatiently. "I just can't believe her, Sully."

Sully leaned on the edge of her desk, folding his arms. "What did you expect her to do? Tell ya to bring him on over?"

"No...but I thought she would at least consider it. It's infuriating the way that woman is so set in her ways."

"She's a good teacher," he said diplomatically.

"I know she is. Katie and Byron do so well with her. I just feel like a teacher should be willing to help any student who comes along, no matter what their background, no matter what they look like."

"Miss Teresa and everybody else are never gonna want a child like him around, you know that," Sully told her. "Nobody wants him at church, at school, let alone playing with our kids. Jason Randolph was a respected member of this town. Folks don't like the idea of his daughter tarnishin' his good name."

"I was so naive about this," she said forlornly. "What was I thinking?"

"Don't know if you're gonna have much luck findin' a home for him here," Sully admitted.

"It's too late now. I already promised Hattie."

He glanced at the ceiling. "How she holdin' up?"

Michaela shook her head. "Vomiting all afternoon. Sully…why does it have to be so painful, so cruel? And the poor little boy…to have to watch his mother…"

Red Eagle opened the hallway door and timidly cleared his throat. "Dr. Mike? I can't wake up Mama."

Michaela glanced at Sully worriedly and grabbed her stethoscope off the desk. Michaela and Sully followed the little boy upstairs to the recovery room. Hattie was on her back beneath the covers, her face set in a peaceful expression. Michaela listened to her heart for a long moment, then pulled back her eyelid.

"She's passed?" Red Eagle asked, voice breaking.

"She's in a coma," Michaela explained gently. "That means she's gone to sleep."

"She won't wake up again?" he murmured.

She caressed his shoulder. "No. But she'll be in heaven soon," Michaela said reassuringly. "Soon she won't be in any more pain."

The little boy swiped at his tears. "Good. I don't want her to hurt anymore."

Michaela glanced at Sully. "Could you bring the Reverend here? It won't be long now."

He nodded, quietly leaving the room.

"I know she knows you're here, Red Eagle," Michaela said.

Red Eagle nodded and held his mother's hand. "It's all right, Mama. You can go to heaven now. Dr. Mike's gonna look after me here."

"I'll make sure he's all right, Hattie," Michaela vowed solemnly, putting her arm around the little boy. "You can rest in peace."

&&&&&

Red Eagle paused to pet a stray dog outside the mercantile while Michaela headed to the door with her basket.

"I'll try not to be too long," she told the little boy, briefly caressing his head.

The Reverend was sitting near the stove and Dorothy was standing on a stool helping stack a few cans on the highest shelf.

"Good afternoon," Michaela said cheerfully.

"Afternoon, Michaela," Dorothy said.

"Oh, Dr. Mike. It's so good to see you," Loren said, putting down his feather duster.

She smiled softly, handing him a piece of paper. "It's good to be back. I have a long list."

"I'll get right to it," he said, skimming the list and heading for the dry goods.

Dorothy glanced out the door. "I see you have the Indian boy with you."

Michaela put her basket on the counter. "Yes, well, unfortunately Teresa doesn't want him at school."

"School! We can't have him at school," Loren scolded.

"Well, I never really believed those rumors until now," Dorothy remarked, stepping down from the stool and strolling to the counter.

"What rumors?" Michaela asked, blinking.

"Why, about Jason's daughter. Her taking up with an Indian," Dorothy explained.

"Why didn't I ever hear these rumors?"

"Maybe you were too busy talking to hear," Loren said with a chuckle, giving the Reverend a nudge with his elbow.

"Dorothy, tell me what you know about Hattie," Michaela said.

"It's just that, the Widow Sander's son was workin' as a cowboy once on a cattle drive up to Helena," Dorothy explained. "Oh, it was awhile ago."

"Six or seven years, must be," the Reverend added.

"Hattie must have heard there was a cowboy passing through from Colorado Springs," Dorothy went on. "She tracked down the Sanders boy and asked him to let her father know where she was."

Loren joined the women at the counter. "The Sanders boy told his ma, and his ma told everybody that Jason Randolph's daughter was livin' on her own up there and had herself a newborn dark as an Injun."

Michaela glanced outside at Red Eagle. He was still happily petting the dog.

"What did Jason say to all this?" Michaela asked hesitantly.

Dorothy lowered her voice. "Well, Jason told us she was…she was raped."

"That's not true. Hattie loved Red Eagle's father. She told me so," Michaela said.

"You mean she wanted to have that half breed?" Loren exclaimed.

"Well…not exactly. But they were married well before he was born."

"Were those two married in a church?" Loren demanded skeptically.

"Well, no. They weren't allowed."

"They're not married then, are they," Loren replied, running his duster along the countertop.

"Sully and I weren't married in a church," Michaela replied intrepidly. "Are you saying we aren't really married?"

"Of course not," Loren retorted. "I mean it ain't legal unless folks get married by a Reverend. Or a judge. Isn't that right, Reverend?"

"Well, I guess that's true," the Reverend admitted.

"I knew all along Jason's daughter was running around with an Indian," Loren said proudly. "That's why he never talked about her unless folks asked. That's why he didn't want her to come here. All I can say is it's a blessin' he ain't here to see this for himself."

"It's just such a shame for the little boy," Dorothy said. "Havin' to pay for his parents' mistakes."

"Mistakes? Dorothy, I thought you of all people would understand their situation. You know the Indians are just as honorable, just as hard working, just as decent as any of us."

"Michaela, I have all the respect in the world for the Cheyenne people. For all Indians. You know that. And the poor girl couldn't help who she loved."

"The girl didn't have any sense is what it comes down to," Loren said, walking to a nearby shelf and selecting a few cans. "Leave it to a woman to get mixed up in something like this."

"It takes two to have a baby, Loren," Michaela replied.

"I know that," he said impatiently, putting the cans in Michaela's basket.

"The point is they both should have known better than to bring a child into it," Dorothy explained. "Why, it just ain't fair! Look at him. He sticks out like a sore thumb in this town. And have you talked to Cloud Dancin' about this boy? I don't think any of the Indians are going to like the idea of a child who's half white. Once his mother passes on, there's nobody in the world who's going to give a care about him."

"We're going to find him a family," Michaela said. "There must be someone here who could take him in."

"There won't be. Nobody's gonna want him," Loren said firmly just as Red Eagle stepped into the store.

The little boy looked up at the storekeeper, intimidated, before giving Michaela's black blouse sleeve a gentle tug.

"Dr. Mike, I'm hungry," he whispered.

Michaela pointed at the candy jars. "Why don't you pick out some licorice. Get some for Byron and Katie, too."

He beamed and rushed to the jars.

"Be careful. Don't break anything," Loren called gruffly, crossing his arms and watching Red Eagle impatiently. He glanced at Michaela. "You know what they say, once you feed 'em they'll keep comin' back for more. I hope you know what you're gettin' into."

"His mother's in a coma. She won't live more than another day or so," Michaela whispered. "The least I can do is be kind to him. And I'm asking you to do the same."

Loren grumbled and returned to filling Michaela's basket. Dorothy sighed and ascended the stool again. The Reverend remained quiet from his chair near the stove.

"This good, Dr. Mike?" Red Eagle asked, rushing back to her with a handful of black licorice.

"Yes, perfect, sweetheart," Michaela said, putting her arm around him and holding him to her side.

&&&&&

Red Eagle stood at the end of the bed and watched as Michaela pressed her stethoscope to Hattie's chest and listened for a long moment. The Reverend stood beside her, laid his hand atop Hattie's and recited the twenty-third Psalm. Outside, the sun had just set and a few crickets were starting to chirp.

At last Michaela straightened, put her stethoscope around her neck and opened her pocket watch, silently noting the time.

Lip trembling, Red Eagle watched as Michaela slowly reached up and closed Hattie's eyes with one hand.

"Mama," he finally whimpered.

Michaela walked to his side and put her arm around him. "She's in heaven now," she said tearfully.

Red Eagle hugged Michaela, bursting into sobs. "Mama. No. Mama."

Helplessly, Michaela knelt to his level and held him, letting him cry.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life," the Reverend continued stoically. "And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever and ever. Amen."

&&&&&

Red Eagle, the Sully family, and Andrew Cook were the only mourners gathered around Hattie Randolph's grave.

The Reverend stood in the center, clutching his Bible. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless her and keep her, the Lord make his face to shine upon her and be gracious unto her and give her peace. Amen."

"Amen," Michaela, Brian and Andrew echoed softly.

The men and boys slowly put their hats back on and the group of mourners gradually disbanded. Michaela glanced at Red Eagle. Byron was holding his hand as the child cried softly. Sully put his arm around the boys and nudged them toward the wagon.

"Dr. Mike," the Reverend called quietly.

Michaela allowed Sully and Brian to take the children to the wagon and she remained with the Reverend.

"Do you need some help getting back to church, Reverend?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine. I wanted to ask you about the child. What do you plan to do now?"

"Sully and I thought we would keep him at the homestead for a few days, give him a few days of quiet before we start looking for a family for him. I'd appreciate it if you could make an announcement in church as well."

He sighed. "I told Hattie and I'm telling you, I think you should send him to the Denver orphanage. The sooner the better for his own sake."

"Orphanage? No, she doesn't want that. I promised her I'd find him a family and that's what I'm going to do."

"Dr. Mike, the boy is half Indian and his parents never married."

"They couldn't get married," she said defensively. "They wanted to. She wanted to do the honorable thing but no reverend would marry them."

"I know how folks in this town feel about her. You don't know how angry folks are at me for even letting her be buried in our cemetery," the Reverend explained.

"If you don't want her buried here just say so," Michaela said. "I can make other arrangements."

"This is coming out wrong. I'm just trying to tell you you're fighting a losing battle."

"Why must he pay for the choices his parents made?" Michaela asked, her anger rising. "He's a good child, Reverend. He deserves a good home."

"Of course he deserves a good home," the Reverend replied. "But Michaela, you're going to waste my time and yours driving him all over the territory trying to find him a family that doesn't exist. Folks know who he is and no one wants anything to do with him!"

"Fine, then you don't have to come with me," she said. "But I told Hattie I would try. I know this isn't going to be easy, but I have to at least try." She spun around and walked briskly toward the wagon.

&&&&

Sully padded down the stairs and joined Michaela in the kitchen. She was pouring tea into two cups. A medical journal and a few open books were on the table.

"He's all right. Just another bad dream," Sully said. "He's back asleep."

"He must feel so alone," she said. "His mother was all he had."

"You sure he's gonna be up to riding around in a wagon all day tomorrow?"

"I don't know, but we've got to start meeting with potential families. And I really think he should go with me. We have to be honest with everyone about what he looks like."

"The Reverend gonna come with ya?"

She handed him a teacup. "I don't think so. He thinks he should go straight to an orphanage."

"Michaela, you thought of talkin' to Cloud Dancing, see what he has to say?"

She paused. "No, not really. Do you think I should?"

"The boy's part Indian. I think the Indians should have some say in what becomes of him."

She took a sip of tea. "I suppose that's true. I suppose Cloud Dancing would want to be involved, would have an opinion on this. I'll go to the Reservation first."

"I'll come with ya," he offered.

She smiled gratefully and sat down in front of her books, perusing a page.

He added a small spoonful of sugar to his tea, watching her read for a moment as he stirred his tea. "What ya lookin' at?"

She glanced up hesitantly. "It's, um, some articles that Andrew found for me. About…about infants dying in their sleep."

He stopped stirring and shifted in his seat. "What's it say?" he murmured.

She turned a page back. "There isn't much. There's a variety of theories. A hormonal imbalance, mineral deficiencies, some kind of bacterial infection."

"Infection? But he was fine."

"Poor postnatal care, unsanitary conditions," she went on. "Some parents have even been investigated for neglect."

"But we took good care of him. We got a good home, plenty to eat. We've always seen to all his needs."

"I know that, but….I still wonder."

"The fact of the matter is they don't know. They don't know why it happens. It's just theories, like ya said." He shook his head. "I don't want ya readin' these things. I'm not gonna have some fancy doctor back East try to tell ya you weren't a good ma."

She flipped a few pages, growing upset. "No, I have to keep looking. I have to find an answer."

He pushed his teacup aside and stood. "Michaela, we put him to bed, and in the morning he didn't wake up. That's all there is to it!" he said firmly.

"I'm not giving up until I find an answer," she retorted.

"What good's it gonna do? It's not gonna bring him back!"

Tears fell down her cheeks. She turned away as he leaned against the table and sighed.

"Michaela….Michaela, I'm sorry. I just don't want ya to do things that make it harder on yourself. I wanna spare ya some pain. Both of us."

"Sully, Dr. Mike?" Red Eagle called from the base of the stairs.

Michaela quickly swiped away her tears and stood. "Red Eagle? I thought Sully just tucked you back in bed."

He climbed down the last few steps and shyly entered the kitchen. "I was thirsty. Could I have a glass of water please?"

"Of course. I'll get it," Michaela said, grabbing a glass from a shelf and filling it from the pump.

Sully slowly walked to the boy and picked him up. "You gotta get some sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow."

"Here you are, sweetheart," Michaela said, handing him up the glass.

Red Eagle took a big gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's better. Your water tastes good."

Sully chuckled. "It's just water."

"I know. I like it."

Michaela smiled and took the glass from him. "All right, it's bedtime now. We all need to get some rest."

&&&&&

Michaela and Sully struggled to keep up with Cloud Dancing as he walked briskly toward his hut.

"There's nothing I can do for him," Cloud Dancing said firmly.

"Why, because he's part white?" Michaela replied.

"That is not why."

"Cloud Dancing, he has no one. You don't know how much I could use your help with this. His mother's gone and we don't even know what his father's name was, how he died or anything at all."

Cloud Dancing stopped in his tracts and looked at Sully. "You didn't tell her?"

"Tell me what?" Michaela demanded. "Sully, you know his father?"

Sully sighed, folding his arms. "…Not personally."

Cloud Dancing approached the door of his hut and opened it. "This child has the blood of one of our greatest enemies. Don't bring him here. It's not safe for him." With that he shut the door on them.

&&&&&

Michaela struggled to remain patient as Sully drove the wagon out of the reservation and toward home. She knew he would speak when he felt they were a safe distance away from anyone.

At last Sully sat back in the seat and took a deep breath. "Red Eagle's father was a Crow warrior. His name was Strikes the Bear and he died at Little Bighorn."

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Michaela drew in her breath, digesting it all. "I didn't know the Crow helped the Sioux and Cheyenne fight General Custer."

"They didn't," he replied. "Custer hired some Crow Indians to scout for 'em. We heard who some of 'em were. Goes Ahead, and Half Yellow Face, and White Swan. And we all heard of Strikes the Bear. They said that young Crow brave was the reason the Reservation teacher from Colorado was with child. I wasn't sure it was true until Hattie showed up in town with the boy." He gave the reins a light slap. "Those Crow scouts found the encampment and that's when the army attacked. Red Eagle's father helped Custer slaughter Cheyenne."

"Sully, Custer's entire regiment died in that battle."

"So did a lot of Indians, Michaela."

"No one knows for sure what happened."

"Are you defendin' him?"

"I'm saying we don't really know what circumstances led to Strikes the Bear deciding to work for Custer. Maybe he didn't realize Custer was only out for blood."

"All I know is Cloud Dancing's probably right. No Indian is gonna wanna help that boy. Not only because he's part white, but because of who his father is."

She sighed. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"Maybe we oughta start thinkin' about contacting an orphanage, like the Reverend said."

"I won't send him there. He'll be ostracized."

"Michaela, we gotta start being realistic. You'll be lucky if ya get a family to even consider him. Folks can't look past things like that like you can. Unless you got intentions of us takin' him in, I don't got much hope for him."

"No. No we can't take him," she murmured. "I've got to give this a try. I could drive out to some of the families who don't get into town very often."

He gave the reins a flick. "That's a good idea."

&&& &&& &&&

Harvey Docherty rushed out of his cabin, rifle in tow.

"No trespassin'!" he shouted, pointing the rifle at them.

Michaela put her arm around Red Eagle protectively as they sat on the wagon seat. "Mr. Docherty, it's just me. It's Dr. Mike."

"I know who you are. Don't change the fact that it's no trespassin'," he retorted, cocking the rifle.

"I don't mean to disturb you. I was just hoping to talk to you and your wife. It'll only take a minute."

He slowly put down the rifle and spit tobacco juice forward. "What about?"

"This is Red Eagle," Michaela explained. "His mother passed away a few days ago and I'm trying to find a suitable home for him. I thought you and Mrs. Docherty might consider it."

"What in blazes? Why would we do something like that?"

"I realize he's part Indian and that might be a concern for you, but I assure you he's a wonderful child, helpful and obedient."

"I don't care what he is, but we can barely feed our own youn'uns let alone somebody else's."

"His mother left some money for his care to be given to his new family."

He scratched his beard. "How much?"

She swallowed. "Fifteen dollars."

He laughed heartily. "Fifteen dollars? Fifteen dollars! That won't last more than three or four months these days." He clutched his belly, laughing harder. "Fifteen dollars, she says."

Red Eagle glanced at Michaela, raising his eyebrows.

"Come on, let's go," she murmured, patting his shoulder and slapping the reins.

&&& &&& &&&

Michaela found her thoughts again wandering to Jack as she pulled down quickly on the cow's udders, filling up the milk bucket. Sully was in one of the stalls, raking it out and putting fresh hay down. She could see how relieved Sully was that she was up and around and wanted to cook the meals and do the other chores, but being active again had done little to ease her heartache. She missed dreadfully the morning routine of only a few months ago. She would get Jack up and dressed first, then carry him to the older children's rooms and wake them. They would all go downstairs and she would prepare breakfast for everyone and feed Jack. Then they would head into town. Sully would drop her and Jack off at the clinic and the older children at school. She would get down on her knees and play with Jack if she didn't have patients. He was just starting to pull himself to his feet and toddle, and he would follow her around everywhere, clinging to her skirts as she updated a chart or cleaned her instruments.

Now her days felt so lonely and empty, despite a household that was still bustling with people and a full appointment book at the clinic, not to mention all the time spent trying to find a home for Red Eagle.

Michaela was distracted when she heard a tiny cough. She turned to see Red Eagle dressed and standing in the doorway.

"Red Eagle, you're up early," Michaela remarked.

"Mornin'. Are we going to look for a family today?" he asked.

"Yes, we'll leave in a few hours. Is that all right?" Michaela replied.

He nodded. "Can I help you with milking? Mama said I should help out."

"Well, of course," she replied. She shifted her stool over and he walked up to her, crouching down and grabbing an udder. He squeezed it and milk streamed into the bucket.

"You certainly know what you're doing," Michaela remarked.

"We had a cow in Montana," he explained. "I helped with all the chores, especially when Mama got too sick to do much."

"I'm sure she appreciated that."

He gazed at her black blouse sleeve pensively. "Do you always wear black? Is it your favorite color?"

She couldn't help but smile. "No it's not my favorite color. But most women wear black when there's been a death in the family."

"How long do you gotta wear it? Forever?"

She glanced at her dark skirt. "No. A year is customary."

"A year!" he exclaimed, eyes widening. "But that's so long. I wish you wouldn't wear black anymore."

Michaela fingered her blouse sleeve. "Why?"

He rested his head against the cow's belly. "I don't know. It makes me sad. It makes me think of my mama dying."

"Oh," Michaela murmured, gently patting his back.

"How did your baby die? Did he get the measles?" he asked curiously. "I got that once, but I was all right."

Sully slowed his raking, listening more attentively to their conversation.

"No, he wasn't ill. He just…he died in his sleep. That happens sometimes to babies. We don't know why."

"God must have wanted him up in heaven," Red Eagle remarked. "With the angels. Where Mama is."

She nodded, strangely comforted by the little boy's simple outlook. "I'm sure that's why."

His face lit up with an idea. "I know. Next time I pray, I'll ask God to tell my mama to look after Jack for you. I bet she'd like to. Would that make you feel better?"

Tears appeared in Michaela's eyes and Sully rested the rake against the stall and walked a few steps toward them. She rubbed the little boy's back, looking at Sully. "Yes. Yes I think it would. Thank you."

"Want me to carry the bucket in?" Red Eagle asked, grabbing the rope handle. "I'm strong."

She stood, briefly caressing his head. "Let's both carry it."

&&& &&& &&&

"They're dear friends of ours," Michaela explained, pulling back on the reins. "And they're really looking forward to meeting you."

"They don't care I'm a half breed?" Red Eagle asked timidly.

"No, sweetheart. Not Kirk and Faye," Michaela said reassuringly, patting his knee. She climbed down from the wagon and reached her arms up, helping him to the ground.

"They don't live too far from you," he remarked, taking her hand. "If they're gonna be my new ma and pa, I can still visit you, Dr. Mike."

She smiled. "Yes. I'd love that."

Kirk and Faye opened the door as they approached. Faye was carrying their baby on her hip.

"Afternoon, Dr. Mike," Kirk called, stepping toward her and warmly shaking her hand.

"Good to see you, Kirk," she replied.

"Dr. Mike," Faye said with a smile, kissing her cheek. "We've missed you around town."

"Oh, she's getting so big," Michaela remarked, taking the baby from Faye and hugging her. "Yes you are, aren't you, Danielle? You haven't seen your Auntie Mike in ages."

"She's sure a little devil," Kirk said, lovingly caressing the baby's wispy red hair.

"Wait until she starts walking," Michaela said wistfully.

"Well, this must be the boy," Faye said, patting Red Eagle's hair. "I'm Faye. My husband, Kirk."

"Howdy," Red Eagle said shyly. "You're pretty."

Faye chuckled. "Oh, I like him already. Come inside. I just made some cookies."

&&& &&& &&&

Michaela held Danielle in her lap and stroked her little fingers. Red Eagle was busy eating a cookie and drinking a tall glass of milk Faye had poured for him.

"I thought they'd grow up together, be friends," Michaela said quietly, gazing at Danielle. She grinned. "Maybe even sweethearts someday."

"I know. Us, too," Faye murmured.

Kirk put his arm around Faye. "How you holdin' up, Dr. Mike? We're worried about ya."

"What can we do?" Faye added, gazing at her friend with concern. "I could bring by supper again. Or maybe watch the children?"

She took a deep breath, composing herself. "No, that's all right. Let's talk about Red Eagle."

"Well, he's darling, don't you think so, Kirk?" Faye said cheerfully, glancing at the little boy.

"Sure. How old are you, son?" Kirk asked.

"Seven. But I can do chores," Red Eagle spoke up. "I'm a hard worker. I saw you got a cow. I can milk her."

"I'm sure you could," Kirk said, patting the child's back with a smile.

Michaela smiled hopefully. "Well? What do you think?"

Faye glanced at her uncomfortably. "Truth be told, Dr. Mike, we've had a change in plans."

She shifted Danielle to rest over her shoulder, patting her back. "Change in plans?"

"We won't be able to take him in," Kirk explained. "At least not for awhile. I'm sorry, Dr. Mike. I really am."

"I don't understand. You said you were interested."

Faye sat next to her. "Well, we are. But could you wait, maybe about a year?"

"A year? But he needs someplace to go right now. What will he do for a year?"

Faye glanced at Kirk uncomfortably.

"Tell her, honey. We gotta," Kirk murmured.

Faye bit her lip hesitantly. "Well, truth is..."

Michaela raised her eyebrows. Whatever it was Faye was about to say, she was clearly very hesitant to reveal it around Michaela.

"Truth is, we're having another baby," Faye said, sighing.

Surprised, Michaela swallowed. She suddenly noticed a small swelling around Faye's waistline. "Oh. Oh." She felt a pain of jealousy, but quickly tried to smile. "Oh, Faye. Congratulations."

Faye hugged her guiltily. "Oh, Dr. Mike, I wanted to wait longer to tell you. I started to realize it just right around the time poor little Jack passed on. I didn't know what to do."

"No, shh. It's all right. But you should have stopped by the clinic weeks ago when your first suspected." Danielle grabbed hold of a few wisps of Michaela's hair and Michaela gently pulled her chubby hand away.

Faye shrugged. "I will. Next time I get into town."

"Now that we know for sure, we just don't think it'd be a good idea to take in a child right now," Kirk explained. "We want to wait until after the new baby's born, we get settled in with all the changes that brings, before we'll be ready to adopt him."

"It's just bad timing is all," Faye said, caressing her belly with one hand. "We feel so terrible."

"No, a new baby is good news," Michaela said, trying to hold back tears. "You have every right to be happy." She kissed Danielle and handed her back to Faye. "We should go before it gets too late. Red Eagle? Say thank you."

"Thank you," the little boy whispered, quickly getting down from his chair and following Michaela to the door.

"It was so nice to meet you, Red Eagle," Faye said, seeing them out the door. "Dr. Mike, you'll let us know if there's anything else we can do?"

"Stop by the clinic, Faye. I want to be sure you and the baby are healthy."

Faye nodded, glancing at Kirk and slowly closing the door.

"Don't worry, Dr. Mike. We'll just try the next family," Red Eagle said cheerfully.

Tears slipped down her cheeks. "No, I know."

"Then why you crying?" he asked, squeezing her hand.

"I don't know. I just...I miss my son," she admitted in a whisper. "I miss my baby."

"Oh. I bet you were sad she's gonna have a baby," Red Eagle remarked.

Surprised at his perceptiveness, she managed a nod.

Red Eagle hugged her waist tight. "Maybe she'll let you come hold her new baby. I bet she would if you ask nice. Don't cry anymore. You'll make me cry, too."

She rubbed his back, slowly composing herself. "I'm sorry. I won't anymore."

He grinned up at her. "Let's go home now. That's enough visiting families for the day."

She chuckled, taking his hand. "Let's go home."

&&& &&& &&&

Michaela ran her brush down her hair, gazing at her reflection pensively.

Sully folded his shirt and put it in the bureau, watching her the entire time. "Somethin' wrong?" he asked.

"Hm?" she replied, blinking and turning to face him.

He chuckled softly. "I said, somethin' wrong? You're quiet tonight."

She put down the brush. "Faye's pregnant."

He smiled. "She is? How far along?"

"I would guess four months. I'm not sure. She didn't even come to see me."

He shrugged. "So? Michaela, ya weren't at the clinic for more than a month."

"But I've been there the past few weeks."

He strolled to her, resting one hand on the back of the chair. "Maybe she was afraid to see ya. Didn't want to hurt your feelins about bein' pregnant again, what with us just losin' Jack."

She sighed, resting her hands in her lap. "It did hurt. A little. They were so happy. It made me remember….how happy we were when we were in their shoes."

He took her hand and kissed it. "We're gonna have that happiness again."

"Sully, I just got my monthly," she murmured forlornly.

"Ya did? Well, that's all right. We can't get discouraged," he said reassuringly. "We ain't even been tryin' yet."

"Yes we have," she protested, picking up her brush again and running it down her hair a few times.

"When was that?" he replied. "You come home so exhausted from drivin' Red Eagle around all day ya never want to."

"Well, I am often tired," she said defensively. "I can't think about that sort of thing when all I want to do is go to bed."

"Didn't know makin' love was such a chore," he muttered, standing and walking to the bed.

"Sully, I don't mean it like that." She put down the brush and turned in her chair to face him, grasping the back. "I'm just having second thoughts, that's all. I've never been able to get pregnant like Faye has, just like that. Byron took more than a year, remember? I had practically resigned myself to Katie being our only child. I thought it would never happen again."

"Yeah, but it did. I thought we said we're gonna at least try. That we're gonna move on."

"Well, maybe I'm not ready to move on yet," she murmured.

"Michaela, I don't wanna see ya go back to the way things were before," he said solemnly, taking a seat on the bed. "I know you're hurt about Faye, but you're not gonna use this as an excuse to push everybody farther away."

"I don't push people away," she retorted. "Is that how you see it?"

"Yeah, it is. Ya turned down your ma when she wanted to visit, ya turn down our friends when they want to bring over supper or help out here. Ya don't talk about what happened with the kids. And ya sure don't wanna talk about it with me."

She stood, approaching the bed. "Oh, Sully. It's not that I don't want to talk to you. It's just...it's so painful."

"I know it is. But Michaela, this is how we're going to get through this. By facin' it. Not by runnin' away." He drew her into her arms, rubbing her back.

"Sully, it frightens me that it's not getting better," she whispered, closing her eyes. "The only thing I know to do is to keep myself so busy that I don't have to think about it."

"Maybe you and me should get away for a few days," he suggested. "Go on a trip. I think it would help, Michaela."

"No, we couldn't possibly. I have to focus on finding Red Eagle a home. I need to be here right now."

"How long ya aim to keep that up? Everywhere ya go they find some reason they can't take him in."

"I don't know. As long as it takes."

"Every day he stays here he's gettin' more attached to you, the kids. Gonna be hard on him to send him away when the time comes."

She smiled softly. "You think he's attached to me?"

"He thinks you're somethin' special, that's for sure." He kissed her softly. "Reckon I can't argue with him there."

She held him and buried her head against his shoulder. "Sully, I don't want our child's death to come between us. Something that terrible…it can break down a marriage."

"Hey, hey. That ain't gonna happen. Not if we don't let it." He stroked her hair. "So maybe we don't have to go on a trip. But what if sometime we ask Grace or Dorothy to come take the kids so we can have supper together, just you and me. Have the house to ourselves for the night."

"That sounds nice," she admitted, kissing his cheek.

"You just say when," he replied, rocking her lovingly.

&&& &&& &&&

Sarah Sheehan unfolded a brand new blue checkered shirt and held it up in front of her lamp. Brian sat on her bed and admired the shirt, impressed with the impeccable stitch work.

"I can't believe ya made that," Brian said, gazing at her proudly.

"It's just a simple shirt. It's not hard." She held it out to him. "Here, put it on. You're in desperate need of some new clothes."

"You're right," Brian said, quickly unbuttoning his worn shirt and slipping it off. "I just haven't wanted to bother my ma about it, what with everything. She shouldn't have to worry about me."

"Just because your baby brother died doesn't mean everybody else's lives stop," Sarah said gently. "You still got needs you should speak up about. You gotta take care of yourself, Brian."

"Don't need to, when I got you looking after me," he replied wryly, putting the new shirt on and buttoning it up.

She pressed her hands to his chest. "Oh, you look so handsome in it."

Brian turned to her mirror and admired the new garment. "Yeah, I really like it. Thank you, Sarah."

"I was happy to do it," she replied, standing on tip toe and giving him a little kiss.

He tucked the shirt into his pants and then put his arm around her. "Can you come to my place tonight, have supper with us?"

"Yes, I think so. Maybe you could ask your pa if we could borrow the wagon. We could go for a drive after supper."

He sighed. "I'd like that, but we can't. Ma took the wagon out to Canon City with Red Eagle. She won't be back until real late."

"Canon City!" she exclaimed. "That must be forty miles! What's she doin' draggin' the poor thing all the way out there?"

He shrugged. "We can't find anybody who wants him around these parts. We gotta look farther out."

"Brian, I really don't think Dr. Mike's tryin' very hard with all this. You're never gonna find him a home at the rate she's going."

"What're you talking about?" Brian asked with surprise. "Ma's workin' day and night trying to figure this out. She barely sleeps."

"Oh, I know she's been busy with it. I'm just sayin' I've seen the two of them together. He follows her around like a little puppy, and she's just as sweet to him as she is to you and your little brother and sister. Deep down I don't think she intends to give him up."

"What do you mean? You mean you think she wants to take him in herself?"

"It makes sense," Sarah replied. "You just lost Jack."

Brian sat beside her, resting his hands on his knees pensively. "Maybe Ma would like that, but not Pa. Red Eagle's father was Crow, the Cheyenne's greatest enemy. That don't sit right with Pa."

"It's romantic in a way, don't you think?" she said whimsically. "The way Hattie Randolph ran off with the man she loved and got married in secret. She was my age you know."

He smiled at her shyly. "Yep, I know."

She rested her head against his shoulder. "I'd run off with you in a heartbeat."

"Sarah, this ain't a dime novel," he replied quietly. "I wish it was. Fact is, now both his parents are dead and he's left behind. You're right. We might not find him a home. And I know my pa's never gonna want him to live with us. Pretty soon we're gonna have to turn him over to an orphanage."

"Oh, that's so sad," she remarked quietly. "And think how hard that's gonna be on Dr. Mike, what with the way she's taken to him. First Jack, now this. I don't think she could bear it."

"Guess she's gonna have to," Brian whispered, putting his arm around her.

&&& &&& &&&

Michaela slowly roused, letting out a groan as she realized from the bright light in the room the sun had long been up.

Sully was already awake, dressed, and shaving leisurely in front of their mirror as if he had no idea how late it was.

"You've got to stop letting me sleep in," she scolded, getting out of bed. "I told Red Eagle we'd leave early this morning."

He shrugged. "I can't help it. You're exhausted from drivin' him all over the place."

She walked to her basin and washed her face with a few handfuls of water. "Sully, please, you have to wake me when you wake up. I don't care if I look tired. Just do it."

"And I think ya should sleep if you're tired. Who cares if you'll be a little late."

"A lot late. I can't just get out of bed and go like you can," she replied intrepidly. "I need much more time."

He smiled and watched in the mirror as she slipped out of her nightgown and opened the bureau drawers, taking out pantaloons, stockings, a chemise, petticoats and her usual black blouse and skirt. She hurriedly put on the chemise and stockings and stepped into the pantaloons, buttoning the buttons and tying the various strings.

"Need help?" he asked, still smiling.

"No," she retorted. "And I'm glad you're so amused."

"Somebody's grumpy this mornin'," he remarked wryly, running the blade down his cheek and rinsing it.

She sighed, fastening a garter. "I don't mean to be grumpy. I just need my coffee that's all."

"I'll wake ya earlier tomorrow. I promise," he said, rinsing his face and patting it dry with a towel. He walked to the bureau and opened it, taking out her shoes and placing them beside her.

"Thank you," she murmured.

He gave her a sweet kiss. "Morning."

She couldn't help but smile and caress his face. "I love your cheeks just after you've shaved."

He returned the smile. "I'll put the coffee on." He walked to the door as she picked up her black blouse.

"Sully?" she called.

He paused and turned back around.

She hesitated, looking at the blouse. "What would you think about me wearing something different today?"

He glanced at her clothes. "Somethin' different? Like what?"

"I don't know. Not this," she replied.

"Ya mean put away the mourning clothes."

"Red Eagle said it reminds him of his mother dying. I can't stand the thought that I'm making this harder on him."

He walked back to her side and grasped her shoulders. "They're just clothes to me. If you don't wanna wear them anymore it's fine by me."

"It's only been two months," she whispered. "To pack them away so soon."

"Maybe Red Eagle's got the right idea," he replied. "Maybe if we didn't surround ourselves with things that're sad, we'd feel better."

"Things like all this black mourning garb," she said with a sigh.

"Why don't we just try it," he suggested. "Put on your normal clothes and see how it goes. It don't feel right, ya can go back to wearin' these."

She put the black blouse and skirt on the back of her chair and grasped his hands. "Sully, you've been so supportive throughout this. You've never made me feel like what I'm feeling is wrong. I always feel safe telling you what's on my mind."

"Good, that's how I want it to be," he said, squeezing her hands. "Michaela, only way we're gonna get through this is bein' honest with each other."

"If we're being honest then I hate wearing those," she said firmly. "They're hot and miserable looking and make me feel worse."

"Good, then let's get rid of 'em," he said.

&&&&

Michaela looked up at the ominous dark sky. A big storm was rolling in quickly across the mountains, heading straight for them. Red Eagle sat beside her and gripped the edge of the wagon seat nervously. A few drops of rain began to hit their faces.

"Over there! More lightning!" Red Eagle shouted, pointing toward the West as a large bolt of lightning came down, followed by a crack of thunder. "Are we almost home, Dr. Mike?"

"I'm afraid not. Colorado Springs is still six miles away," she said, slapping the reins harder. "Come on, Flash. Come on."

It had been another unsuccessful day meeting with families. First they stopped by Mr. Schmidt's cabin. He didn't have the slightest interest in Red Eagle, but he did insist that Michaela take a look at his sick cow. Then they visited several more young couples, all of whom were obviously uncomfortable that Red Eagle was Indian. One young man had even asked if he spoke English. But Red Eagle had remained as upbeat as ever throughout it all, cheering Michaela up when even she couldn't help feeling discouraged.

Another bolt of lightning came down all the closer, startling them both. A sheet of rain seemed to come out of nowhere, bearing down on them and soaking them immediately.

"All right, we have to take cover," Michaela said resolutely, pulling back on the reins and climbing down from the wagon. She raised her arms up and lifted him down. "Come on. Hurry."

to be continued...please leave reviews. I have enabled annoymous reviews


	6. Chapter 6

-1**Chapter Six**

Michaela put her arm securely around Red Eagle and they ventured into the woods in desperate search of some shelter.

"What about Flash?" Red Eagle shouted.

"She'll be all right! She's seen plenty of storms!" Michaela replied wrapping one side of her jacket over him in a futile attempt to shield him from the hard rain.

"I wanna go home, Dr. Mike!" he cried.

Michaela held him all the closer, struggling to see through the downpour. "I've got you. I won't let anything happen."

He wiped the water from his eyes, panting. "We're getting all wet!"

"Over there, I see something!" she shouted, pointing at some old rotting boards. "It looks like a mine shaft."

She led him quickly over to the abandoned mine shaft and pushed aside a few fallen boards to make room for them to get inside.

"Here, we'll take cover just inside here." She led him a few feet inside and they crouched down. Michaela let out a sigh of relief and stroked back his soaked hair. "There, see. We'll stay dry here."

Suddenly a bolt of lightning came down nearly on top of them, striking a tree not twenty feet away. Startled, Michaela couldn't help but cry out with fear. She quickly enveloped Red Eagle in a tight hug and held him firmly as they watched the tree burn and split in half, one half falling to the ground. Michaela was petrified, but all her focus was on Red Eagle and keeping him calm and safe.

Red Eagle let out a tiny sob. "Dr. Mike!"

She rocked him soothingly. "Oh, don't be frightened, sweetheart. Don't be frightened. I've got you."

"I don't like this. I'm scared," he said tearfully.

She kissed his head instinctively. "It'll be over soon. Sully and I have been caught in our fair share of storms. You just have to wait it out." She chuckled softly. "We got in the biggest fight once caught in a rainstorm."

He rubbed his nose. "Ya did?"

"I was pregnant with Jack at the time, he was due in about a month, and I wanted to go on my usual house calls. In fact one of my patients was your grandfather. He had a bad heart and couldn't make it into town the last few years."

"You went out to see my grandpa?" he whispered.

"Yes, of course. But Sully said I shouldn't be going on any more house calls until the baby was born, and that if I wasn't going to listen to him and go anyway, then he would just have to drive me himself. And that just made me furious."

"How come?"

"I was just being stubborn I suppose. I didn't want him worrying over me all the time. And I hated being told what to do."

"He just wanted you and Jack to be all right," Red Eagle explained. "Didn't want you to be going off by yourself."

"Yes. We weren't on the road two hours when my back started to cramp up from the long ride. It hurt so much I had to have Sully press his hand against it just so I could cope. I was so angry that Sully had been right, that I shouldn't have been going on house calls just then, and I was in the most horrible mood by the time the day was over. And that's when it started raining just like this."

"Lightning and everything?" Red Eagle breathed, fascinated.

"Lightning and everything," she replied. "Sully said, if you had just listened to me we wouldn't be out here in the first place. And I said, if you had just let me go by myself I'd be back by now because I drive better! And the entire time we're both getting soaked to the skin."

Red Eagle's eyes widened. "Oh, no."

"It got worse. Just then a stage coach came up behind us. And just as it was passing us it hit a huge mud puddle."

Red Eagle drew in his breath in anticipation as more thunder echoed across the mountains.

"We got covered in mud, both of us," she said with a chuckle. "All over our jackets and even splattered on our faces. We looked at each other and all we could do was laugh. In fact we couldn't stop laughing!"

Red Eagle giggled. "Then you weren't so mad at each other anymore?"

"No, not at all. We realized we couldn't do anything about our situation, so we might as well laugh about it. We made the best of it."

He hugged his legs to his chest. "That's what Mama always said. Make the best of it."

She sighed, nodding.

"You stopped wearing the black clothes, Dr. Mike," he remarked, fingering her damp blouse sleeve. "I'm glad. I don't think Jack would like black very much either."

Michaela glanced down at her blouse. It was a soft pink with some lace at the collar, and had always been one of Sully's favorites. "You were right. Black is a sad color," she said, kissing his head. She rubbed his arm. "Are you cold?"

He snuggled up against her. "Yeah, a little."

She drew her jacket flap around him again and held him close as they waited out the storm.

&&&

Michaela slowly opened her eyes, disoriented. She looked around, regaining her bearings. They were still just inside the mine shaft. Outside the rain had stopped and the sun had come out again. Red Eagle was curled up in her lap fast asleep. She grinned. He was such a sweet little boy with his big brown eyes and button nose. And his positive attitude and easy smile made him all the more endearing. It pained her that no one else seemed to like him like she did. But she supposed all those hours they had spent together day after day, driving around looking for families, had fostered a tight bond between them. She bit her lip. Not only was Red Eagle attached to her, but she was to him. She already knew it was going to be painful giving him up, but she would have to find him a family soon before saying goodbye to him became impossible. She stroked his hair a few times and he gradually opened his eyes and smiled reverently.

"I thought you were my mama for a second," he whispered, looking up at her. "My eyes were blurry."

She smoothed back his hair and helped him sit up. "It stopped raining. We can head home now."

"Think Flash is all right?"

"Probably a little spooked, but I'm sure she's fine." She stood, stretched her back and brushed herself off. "Are you all right?"

"Yep. That wasn't so bad," he replied. "I like when you tell me stories. They're funny."

She smiled and held his hand as they walked back to the wagon.

&&&

"'Wanted: Loving home for good boy, seven. Half Indian. Reply to Dr. Michaela Quinn, Colorado Springs,'" Horace read. "Now that goes to the newspapers in Boulder, Denver and Pueblo."

"Why don't you send it to Glenwood Springs, too," Michaela said, digging into her purse and placing a bill on the counter.

"You sure you want to say he's Indian, Dr. Mike?" Horace said. "I don't think you'll get much response."

"I have to. We'll be wasting our time and theirs otherwise."

"Suit yourself," he replied, sitting down in front of his telegraph.

Dorothy walked up the steps, her reporter's pad around his neck.

"Afternoon, Michaela," she said cheerfully. "Any mail for me, Horace?"

"No, none today," he replied as he tapped on the telegraph.

Dorothy suddenly noticed Michaela wasn't wearing her usual black. Instead she had put on a simple but flattering cornflower blue dress and cream colored shawl.

"Michaela, you….you aren't in your mourning clothes," Dorothy said with surprise.

"Yes, I know," she replied, stepping down from the telegraph and heading toward her clinic.

Dorothy followed her. "Well, but ladies are supposed to mourn for a year when a child passes on. What will folks think?" she said carefully.

"I'm well aware of what society requires, Dorothy," Michaela said patiently. "And truthfully, I'm still deep in mourning on the inside. I could wear the clothes quite a bit longer. But it was upsetting Red Eagle."

"Oh. It was upsetting Red Eagle," Dorothy repeated, putting her hands behind her back.

"Yes. So I'm sorry if I'm offending anyone, but I don't want to contribute to Red Eagle's own grief over losing his mother."

"What do you say we get some coffee?" Dorothy asked. "We haven't done that in a long time."

Michaela briefly smiled. "All right. Yes, you're right."

"Well, you sure seem fond of him," Dorothy remarked as they headed into the cafe.

Michaela chuckled. "He said the sweetest thing the other day. The children were learning about the sun in school and they came home and were telling him about it. And Red Eagle said, 'I'm not sure how the sun shines down on us, but it knows how to do it and that's the important thing.'" She chuckled again, glancing at Dorothy.

"Oh. Yes that's sweet," Dorothy murmured, taking a seat at an empty table. "It sounds like you're getting attached to that little boy. All of you."

"No. No, not really," she replied, clearing her throat and sitting across from her. "He's just so well-behaved, so eager to please. He insists on helping me with the chores each morning. It hasn't been an inconvenience whatsoever to have him stay at the homestead with us."

"No luck yet with finding a family?"

"No, none yet," Michaela said, letting out a disappointed sigh. "If only people could see past what he looks like. They would see what a beautiful child he truly is." She looked at her friend. "Dorothy, you wouldn't consider taking him in, would you? He wouldn't be much trouble."

"Oh, I'm too old to take in a little boy like that," she said, waving one hand. "And raising him in this town? Think how complicated that would be."

"What's so complicated about it?" Michaela asked.

Dorothy chuckled. "Michaela, you know full well what I'm talking about. Besides, Loren would never let me hear the end of it if I set out to try to raise a half breed. And I think a boy like that needs a father, too. No, you're asking the wrong person. Question is, what're you going to do when you can't find him a family? Will you and Sully take him in?"

Grace strolled over to the couple with her coffee pot, happy to see Michaela back at the café. "Afternoon, ladies."

"Good afternoon, Grace," Michaela replied.

"Well, Michaela, will you take him in?" Dorothy pressed.

Grace filled up two mugs with coffee. "Are you talkin' about that poor Indian boy?"

"It won't come to that," Michaela insisted. "We'll find the right family for him eventually. I just posted advertisements in the surrounding papers."

"Michaela, you've got to think this through. Think how difficult it would be trying to raise a child like him. He just isn't wanted anywhere, at school, at church. Think how hard that's going to be on you and Sully, on your own children."

"It ain't gonna be like raising a child of your own," Grace advised softly.

Dorothy took her hand. "Michaela, I know you're looking for somethin' to fill up what's missin' since Jack passed on."

"That's not what I'm doing," Michaela immediately replied. Her eyes welled with tears. "I've felt such a range of emotions since my baby died. Anger, guilt, helplessness. The deepest, most painful sadness I've ever experienced. I haven't slept, I can barely eat. I can't focus on anything. I never thought I could cry so much. And I've never seen my husband, my children so deeply upset. But since Red Eagle's come into our lives, I feel like things are slowly getting better. For the first time, I can concentrate on something. He's just something else to think about, that's all."

"I understand," Dorothy said, taking her hand. "Michaela, if you and Sully ever want an evening to yourselves, I'd be happy to look after everyone."

"Sure, I can help out, too," Grace offered.

"Thank you. I'll think about that."

"You're still grieving parents," Dorothy said gently. "Don't forget to take care of yourselves, too."

&&&&

Sully was just beginning to fall asleep, one arm wrapped around Michaela and holding her back against his chest. She was tiredly telling him about her day. He had hoped perhaps to have a few private moments to themselves before they went to sleep. He was going to shave and put on some cologne. But by the time they cleaned up supper and tucked in all the children, they were both too tired to do anything but go to bed. Still, he was content to hold her to him and listen to her warm voice.

"Mm, I can't stay awake any longer," she finally said, turning her head to glance at him.

"Me neither. G'night," he replied, kissing her a few times and drawing her all the closer.

She threaded her fingers with his, drew his hand up and kissed the back of it, and closed her eyes.

A steady but polite knocking stirred them a moment later.

"Dr. Mike. You awake?" Red Eagle called through the door.

Michaela instantly recognized the distress in his voice.

"Red Eagle?" She quickly got out of bed and opened the door.

Red Eagle looked up at her timidly, face flushed from crying.

"Red Eagle, what's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked worriedly.

The little boy stepped forward and hugged her waist tight, bursting into sobs. Michaela immediately swept him off his feet and sat on the bed with him, holding him close.

"Oh, sweetheart. Oh. Oh."

Sully sat up, placing one hand on Michaela's shoulder. "What's the matter, son? Another bad dream?"

He cried harder as Michaela rocked him and looked at Sully helplessly.

"Shh, shh," she soothed, rubbing his back. "It's all right. We're here now. Sully and I are here."

"I miss my mama," he choked out. "I miss Mama so much. I want her to come back."

Sully smoothed away a few of his tears. "It hurts, don't it," he murmured.

He nodded, rubbing his nose. "Really bad."

"Well, we have to remember all the good times you had with your mother," Michaela said. "All the good memories. All the things she taught you."

"She taught me to always knock," he whispered.

"Yes, that's a good thing," Michaela said with a soft chuckle.

"She had a big map of America she put on the wall above my bed. She taught me all the states and territories and all the capitals. She was the best teacher." He sniffled. "I wish we could have brought that to Colorado. We had to leave so much behind. Most of my toys. Even my stuffed bear."

"Oh, that's too bad," Michaela whispered, smoothing his hair.

Sully glanced at the cupboard across the room where they used to keep extra linens, clothes, diapers and other things for the baby. Michaela had emptied most of it out and given the items to Grace to take to Shantytown, but a few things remained. Michaela followed Sully's gaze, knowing what he was thinking. Slowly, she put Red Eagle on the bed and stood, walking to the cabinet. She opened it and reached inside, pulling out something small. Red Eagle watched her curiously.

"What's that, Dr. Mike?" he asked.

"Perhaps eventually we could buy you some toys of your own," she said unsteadily. "But for now you can have my baby's stuffed bear." She laid the much-loved stuffed animal in Red Eagle's arms.

"I guess when your baby went to heaven he had to leave all his toys behind, too," Red Eagle remarked quietly. "Don't worry, I bet there's toys in heaven he can play with."

Michaela swallowed hard and found a handkerchief on her bureau, returning to the bed.

"Does it have a name?" Red Eagle asked.

Michaela shook her head.

"Then I'll name him Jack," Red Eagle said, hugging the bear tenderly.

Sully caressed his head. "Good name."

"I'll take really good care of him. Thank you," Red Eagle said sweetly, kissing the bear.

Michaela held the handkerchief to his nose. "Here. Blow."

"Mama used to help me blow my nose, too," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and blowing hard.

Sully rubbed his back as Michaela wiped away the last of his tears.

Red Eagle hugged the bear. "Please, can I sleep in here? I'm scared. Please, Dr. Mike?"

Michaela couldn't bear to send the distraught little boy away. She looked at Sully, who wouldn't meet her eyes. She knew he would prefer Red Eagle go back to his own bed, but he was letting her decide.

"All right," she whispered. "But just this once."

He beamed and crawled under the covers. Sully shifted to the edge of the bed and tucked his hands under his head. Michaela purposely got in between Sully and Red Eagle, keeping Red Eagle on her side. Red Eagle immediately cuddled up against her and put one little arm around her.

"You must have really loved your baby," Red Eagle remarked, gazing at the bear. "I always hear you crying. I figure you must be crying about that."

Taken off guard, she tensed. "You can hear me?"

"What did Jack look like?"

She swallowed as Sully rested his hand on her thigh beneath the covers. "He was beautiful. He had rosy cheeks and blonde hair and big blue eyes."

"Did he look like you or like Sully?" he asked curiously. "My mama always said I looked like my pa."

She turned her head to glance at Sully's features. "A little of both I suppose. More like Sully I think. He looked just like him around the eyes. And chin."

"He looked like you. He had your nose and forehead," Sully remarked. "And your bad temper."

Red Eagle giggled. "Bad temper?"

Michaela smiled. "I don't have a bad temper. Only when I'm provoked, that's all."

Sully chuckled and squeezed her thigh. "In that case neither did Jack. Only when he was provoked."

"All right, it's late," Michaela said, kissing Red Eagle's head. "Try to sleep."

Red Eagle shifted up and gave her cheek a sweet kiss. "Night, Dr. Mike."

Michaela held him to her chest. "Night-night," she whispered.

To be continued….Please leave reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Matthew put down his book on his desk and stood up when he saw Michaela approaching the door with Red Eagle. He opened it with a smile.

"Dr. Mike," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Good morning, Matthew. Can you join us for lunch?"

"Sure." He tossed Red Eagle's hair. "How you doing today?"

"Good. Do you mind if I look at those?" Red Eagle replied, pointing at the shiny handcuffs on Matthew's belt.

Matthew chuckled and removed the cuffs, handing them to the little boy. "Sure. Maybe you can help catch me an outlaw."

"You can't have him. He's my best helper at the clinic," Michaela said with a smile.

Red Eagle turned the handcuffs in his hands, fascinated.

"You look good, Dr. Mike," Matthew remarked. "How you feeling?"

"I'm all right. Getting out of those mourning clothes really helped."

"A lotta women in town been talkin' about that. It didn't make them too happy. They don't think you're reading the right Ladies Manuals."

"They're welcome to ask me my reasons for not wearing them."

"Don't think that's gonna happen," he replied with a wry smile. He grasped her arm. "I mean it, Dr. Mike. I'm real glad to see you doin' so much better."

"Me, too," she replied.

"How's the boy?" Matthew asked as Red Eagle continued to play with the handcuffs. "Any luck finding a family?"

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." She put her hand on Red Eagle's head, smoothing back his hair. "Sweetheart, could you go ahead to the café and tell Grace we want three meatloafs? We'll be over in a minute."

"Yes, ma'am," Red Eagle replied, putting the handcuffs on the desk and hurrying out of the office.

Michaela closed the door after him. "I'm running out of options. We must have visited every family within forty miles of here. No one is even remotely interested."

"He's small, can't pull his weight. That's one thing," Matthew explained gently. "And he's part Indian. That's another."

"His mother so badly wanted him to live with a family, not at some crowded orphanage," Michaela said. "And I don't blame her. I'd never want that for Katie and Byron should something ever happen to Sully and I."

"Well, you know it wouldn't come to that. You already made arrangements for Grace and Robert E. to take 'em in. And I've told you before I'd help out wherever I could."

"I know. And I was thinking about that. Matthew, it's never bothered you that Red Eagle is part Indian."

"No, course not," he replied. "He seems like a good child. That's what matters."

"He needs to live with someone who accepts him for who he is. Someone like you. I think you should consider taking him in."

Surprised, Matthew raised his eyebrows. "Me? Dr. Mike, I can't take in a child. I work a lotta hours. And I'm an unmarried man. The truth is I'm not sure folks would like the idea. No, I don't think Hattie had me in mind."

"She had someone in mind who could care for him. I know you could do that. I know she would prefer he go to a married couple and perhaps some children, but I think she would agree it's most important that someone who could love him take him in."

He slowly circled his desk and sat down, folding his arms and swallowing. "A few years back, I thought Ingrid and me would have four or five children by now. Ingrid dyin', that changed everything. Maybe if she were here, we could find a way to take him in." He looked up at her. "Dr. Mike, I'm still holdin' out hope I'm gonna find somebody special. I still want to marry and have children of my own. I'm just at the wrong place in my life right now."

She squeezed his shoulder. "All right. That's understandable."

"Listen, I'll do what I can to help you find him a home. I gotta ride out to Pagosa Springs next week. I'll ask around there."

"Thank you, Matthew," she replied.

"This ain't gonna be easy. But who knows, maybe you'll get lucky," he replied standing up with a smile. "Let's go to lunch. I'm starved."

& & &

Michaela unrolled a large topographical map on the table and Brian and Sully secured each end with a book.

"We've covered most of the area south and east of us for miles," Michaela said, turning up the lamp on the table. Byron and Red Eagle were playing with toy horses in front of the fire and Katie stood near the table, watching the adults.

"Mama, can you help me with spelling?" Katie asked, holding her primer under her arm.

"Not tonight. It's late," Michaela replied.

"What about out toward Seven Lakes," Sully said, pointing at the map. "There's some new homesteads goin' up around there. Might be some young couples interested."

"How 'bout tomorrow?" Katie asked. "Mama? Can you help me tomorrow?"

"No. You know I'm going to be gone all day with Red Eagle," Michaela said, grasping a magnifying glass and peering through it at the detailed map.

"Bear Creek's out that way too," Brian said, leaning forward and gazing at the map. "I know there's gotta be some settlers along there."

"Yes, I see it on here," Michaela said.

"Mama? The day after tomorrow?" Katie said louder.

Michaela glanced up. "Sweetheart, go play with Byron and Red Eagle. We're trying to do something."

"They don't want me to play," she said despondently. "It's not for girls."

"What? Byron, let Katie play with you," Michaela called firmly. "Byron?"

"Yes ma'am," Byron muttered back.

Sniffling, Katie remained where she was and watched the adults as they continued to study the map.

"You were always with Jack until he died, now you're always with Red Eagle," Katie said suddenly, tears appearing in her eyes as she looked at Michaela. "All you care about is him!"

Taken aback, Michaela stood. "Katie, how could you say such a thing?"

"Because it's true!" Katie retorted, dropping her speller on the table and running upstairs.

Michaela looked at Sully, floored. "Where did that come from?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. She's never let on to me."

Brian shrugged. "Ya have been spendin' a lot of time with Red Eagle, Ma," he admitted. "We don't see much of ya around here."

"I thought you all understood how important it is we find him a place to live as soon as possible," Michaela replied. "And how much time that was probably going to require."

"I ain't upset about it myself. I think we should do whatever we can to keep him out of an orphanage. I'm glad me and Matthew and Colleen never had to go there. But I can see why a kid as young as Katie might be feelin' a little left out."

"Left out. I don't leave her out," Michaela said defensively.

"Why don't ya go see if she'll talk to ya," Sully suggesting, putting his hand on her back. "See what's really on her mind."

Somewhat reluctantly, Michaela nodded and headed up the stairs. Katie's door was closed and Michaela rapped on it lightly. "Sweetheart? It's Mama. Can I come in?" When she received no reply she slowly opened the door. Katie was on her stomach in bed, hugging her stuffed rabbit as tears dried down her cheeks.

"That's the first time you've talked about Jack in awhile," Michaela remarked softly. "Do you miss him? Is that what's wrong?"

"No. I hate him," she whispered.

Struggling to remain patient, Michaela sat beside her smoothed back her hair. "Why?"

"I just do. I wish he'd never been born. I never liked him."

Michaela bit her lip, working hard to hold back tears. "Why, Katie? Tell me."

Katie's lip trembled and she shifted to look up at Michaela. "Cause he makes you so sad," she said tearfully.

Michaela slowly nodded. "I'm sorry I haven't been myself for so long. I know how hard that is on you. I think you're trying to say things to hurt Mama so I'll know how upset you are with me. I know you're upset about a lot of things. Jack passing away, how that's made Mama feel. How busy Red Eagle makes me." Michaela kissed her head. "Maybe you're feeling like since I've been spending so much time with Red Eagle, I would rather be with him than you."

Katie thought a moment. "I know that's not true," she whispered. "I just miss you, Mama. I never see you. I want you to help me with my homework and I want to tell you about school. I want you to tuck me in and read to me instead of being too tired."

"Oh, Katie." Michaela got in bed with her and held her. "I'm sorry. You're right. I've been very busy. But I just keep thinking that if something ever happened to me and Papa and you and Byron didn't have a home, I'd want someone to drive you around to see families, too. I'd want them to keep doing it as long as it took. Anything so you wouldn't have to go to an orphanage. If Red Eagle's mother were here, I think she'd be so grateful we're trying the way we are. And she'd be grateful about how patient you've been."

Katie snuggled against her. "I'll try to be more patient."

"I will too. And it won't be much longer," Michaela said reassuringly. "Then we'll see lots more of each other. I've missed you, too." She kissed the back of her head as Katie hugged her rabbit tight.

"Your bunny," Michaela said whimsically. "It was waiting for you in your cradle the day we brought you home."

"From the woods?"

Michaela smiled. "From the woods, that's right."

"I remember that," Katie replied.

Michaela tapped her nose. "You do, do you? Then do you remember how happy Mama was? The happiest I've ever been. I finally had the baby girl I'd been dreaming about for so long. You're so very special to me. I haven't told you that in awhile."

Katie smiled and cuddled against her, soothed by her mother's voice and her warm embrace.

& & &

Sully removed a horseshoe from the red hot coals and braced it against Robert E's anvil, pounding it hard with a hammer. The Reverend made his way carefully down the street, waving his stick as he went.

"Mornin', Robert E.," he called as he passed the livery and heard the sound of a hammer banging away.

"It's Sully, Reverend," he replied with a soft smile. "Mornin'."

"Oh. Sully," the Reverend replied, pausing and turning toward him. "What are you doing at Robert E.'s?"

"Just helpin' him catch up on all these orders," Sully explained, pounding the horse shoe a few more times. "He's over at the store pickin' up some supplies."

The Reverend walked a few steps into the livery.

"I was meaning to stop by the homestead, see how you're doing. But you and Michaela have both been so busy finding the little Indian boy a home it seems you're never there at the same time."

"Michaela's been drivin' him all over the territory. She's still holdin' out hope it's gonna happen."

"How's she doing, Sully?" the Reverend asked softly. "I mean, what with what happened to the baby? At least she sounds a lot better than she was not too long ago. Both of you do."

Sully let out a soft sigh, dipping the horseshoe in a bucket of water and watching it steam. "Guess we're all right. Guess we ain't really had a lot of time to think about it all lately."

"Have you thought about planting some flowers at his grave?" the Reverend suggested. "I know for some folks that really seems to help, brightening up the headstone."

Sully looked up slowly. "We ain't been to the grave. I tried to bring her, but…well, she didn't wanna go."

"Oh. Oh, I had no idea. Sully, visiting his grave is really something I think you should do. I know it's hard, but the longer you avoid going the worse it will be."

"I wanna visit. But I don't wanna go without her," he murmured. "And I ain't gonna press her on this."

"I understand. But what if I talked to her?"

Sully picked up another horseshoe with the tongs and stuck it in the fire, thinking it over quietly.

"Sully, I've been through this with dozens of parents who have lost a child. Every couple has coped with what happened differently. But for all of them, going to their child's grave was a big part of their healing. If I talked to her perhaps that would help."

Sully nodded slowly. "Go ahead and give it a try. Maybe it will."

& & &

"Twelve times five is sixty," Red Eagle recited. He was helping Michaela grind up herbs with a mortar and pestle. "Twelve times six is seventy-two. Twelve times seven is eighty-four."

Michaela placed a few more handfuls of geranium root in the mortar. "Excellent. Keep going."

"Twelve times eight is ninety-six," he continued as someone rang the bell. "Who's that? Thought you didn't have appointments this afternoon."

"I'll go see. You finish grinding those up."

"Sure. This is fun," he said with a smile, bashing the pestle against the herbs with enthusiasm.

Michaela opened the door. "Oh, Reverend. Good afternoon."

"Afternoon," he replied, smiling. "What's all that noise?"

She glanced behind her, chuckling as Red Eagle banged the pestle harder. "Oh, Red Eagle's helping me grind up some herbs."

"Howdy, preacher," Red Eagle called.

"Afternoon," he said. "Dr. Mike, is this a good time to talk?"

"Certainly," she said, shutting the door and guiding him to the bench.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, grasping his stick and sitting down. "I came across Sully in town earlier, spoke with him."

"Oh, you did?" she replied with surprise.

"He says you haven't been to visit his grave."

She swallowed hard, gazing out at the street.

"Michaela, if you'd like to visit I'd be happy to go with you, help you. And Sully, too. You know, he told me he doesn't want to go without you. I think paying your respects is an important part of the grieving process for both of you."

"Thank you, Reverend. I'll give it some thought," she replied.

"Well, Mark sounds happy. I mean, Red Eagle. How's he doin'?"

"He's all right. Still no luck finding him a family though."

"I've been thinking a lot about that. And I was thinking, well, that if I put in a few good words on his behalf it might make a difference. I could mention that he's baptized. I could help you persuade a couple to take him in."

She stared at him, bewildered. "But you told Hattie he should go to an orphanage."

"I know I did. And I still think it's where he should go. I think you're givin' the child false hope dragging this out, making it harder on him. But if you insist on giving this a try, then it's my duty as Reverend of this town to work with you."

"Then you're saying you intend to come with us?"

"Yes, I think I should. If you'll have me along."

"Oh, Reverend. Of course. I'd love to have you along. Red Eagle would, too."

"If you don't mind me practicin' my sermon on those long drives," he added with a soft smile.

She patted his arm. "We're going out again tomorrow. I'll pick you up around lunchtime."

& & &

Eva Rowley filled two mugs with steaming coffee and placed them in front of the Reverend and Michaela.

Red Eagle sat on the bench next to Michaela, cowering close to her under the serious couple's probing gaze.

"Well, what is he, some kind of Mexican?" Tom Rowley asked.

"His father was Indian and his mother was white," Michaela explained.

"Injun, huh? He looks Mexican. What's your name, boy?" Tom asked.

Red Eagle looked up at him fearfully.

"Red Eagle," Michaela said

"Mark. His name's Mark," the Reverend spoke up quickly.

"Well, is it Red Eagle or Mark?" Mr. Rowley demanded.

"It's…Mark when I'm not at home," Red Eagle whispered. He glanced up at the loft where two boys a little older than him were eavesdropping and staring down at him distrustfully.

"He's baptized and his mother raised him Christian," the Reverend explained. "He's just like any other white child. He only looks a little different."

"Still, it would be nice if he could grow up knowing about his Indian roots, too," Michaela said. "His father was a respected member of the Crow tribe."

"Dr. Mike," the Reverend whispered sternly.

"Crow?" Tom replied, scratching his neck. "Weren't it Crow that done scalped some white folks up near Fort Collins a few years back?"

"Well, Dr. Mike, he's a sweet thing," Eva remarked. "But I don't know, so young. He won't be able to do much around here. Not that we want a hired hand, mind you."

"But this is a working farm," Tom explained. "With four young'uns to feed as it is…we don't want anyone to go hungry is all we're tryin' to say."

Michaela sighed, putting her arm around Red Eagle. "I understand. It's all right."

Red Eagle looked up at Michaela optimistically. "We'll try the next family, Dr. Mike."

She nodded, glancing at the Reverend who was looking very despondent. "Yes, we'll try the next one."

& & &

Michaela gave Byron a tight hug and kissed his cheek. "Night night. I love you."

"Love you, Mama."

Michaela crossed the room to Red Eagle's cot and sat on the edge. "Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Goodnight, Red Eagle."

Red Eagle looked up at her pensively. "Dr. Mike, how come nobody wants me?"

Taken aback, Michaela drew in her breath. She couldn't think of any truthful reply.

He grasped her bathrobe sleeve. "Couldn't you be my new ma?"

"Oh, Red Eagle. We're going to find you a good family. We just have to keep looking."

"You can even call me Jack," the little boy offered. "You know, like your baby that died. I wouldn't mind."

Her face fell, and she quickly crossed the room and headed for the door.

"I figured maybe that would help you not be so sad about him passing on," Red Eagle added.

"Go to sleep, Red Eagle," Michaela replied, shutting the door.

In tears, Michaela entered the master bedroom and closed the door behind her, leaning against it.

Sully immediately closed his book and got out of bed. "What's the matter?"

"He said if I take him in I could….I could call him Jack," she whispered.

"…Red Eagle?"

She nodded.

Sully gave her a tight hug and rubbed her back. "I'll wire the Denver orphanage tomorrow. Michaela, at least we'll know he's got a roof over his head, three meals a day, a warm place to sleep."

She tensed in his arms.

"Michaela, he can't sleep on that cot in Byron's room forever. We need to send him to Denver. He'll be safe, and we can move on with our lives, have another baby."

"Sully, it might not happen."

"I know one thing, it's never gonna happen with us busy worryin' about Red Eagle day and night."

She pulled back. "I suppose we have no choice. Let's wire Denver."

He cupped her face in his hands. "I know you feel guilty about this. I do, too. But it also ain't good to drag that boy to family after family, gettin' his hopes up. Hattie knows we did the best we could, all right? We tried."

She nodded, hugging him again and glancing heavenward. "I'm sorry, Hattie. I'm so sorry."

to be continued...thank you for leaving reviews!


	8. Chapter 8

-1**Chapter Eight **

Sully sat quietly beside Michaela and Red Eagle as they waited for passengers to disembark from the morning train and for porters to unload the luggage. He glanced at Red Eagle, who was being as cheerful as ever about being sent off to an orphanage. He suddenly thought back to the death of his own mother, a painful memory.

The minister and Byron were the only people in the pauper's cemetery as a heavy rainstorm bore down on them. The minister held an umbrella over them and recited a prayer. At last he handed Byron a shovel.

Stoically, Byron dug up a small pile of dirt and dropped it on the wooden coffin.

"Amen," the minister said solemnly.

Byron rubbed at his tears with the back of his hand. "I want her to be buried with my pa, and William. She'd want to be next to Will."

"What we want is not always the way things are to be. She cannot have a marker in the church cemetery."

"Because she drowned herself?" Byron whispered.

"Come, let me bring you home."

Byron silently climbed into the minister's hooded buggy and he drove them the long five miles back to the Sully farm. Byron never asked who was to look after him. He was prepared to take care of himself, as frightened as he was to be alone.

"Pack up your things," the minister instructed as he pulled the buggy to a stop in front of the cabin.

"What? What for?" Byron asked, dumbfounded.

"I've contacted the Orphan Asylum in the city. They're expecting you. The stage leaves at three o'clock." He stepped down from the buggy, dodging a large mud puddle.

"Asylum?! No, no I don't want to go! I'm staying here!"

"You can't stay here, young man. Your mother left no other living relatives of legal age. The property has escheated to the state and will be sold at auction on Monday along with the livestock and any effects left behind."

Shocked and devastated, Byron could only look back at him. "This is my home," he finally whispered.

"Child, your parents are dead. The orphanage is to be your home now." The minister let out a soft sigh and stepped toward him, grasping his hand and helping him down from the buggy. "Come along. Let's get you packed."

Sully glanced at Red Eagle worriedly. He had to remind himself they were doing the right thing. Orphanages had improved since he was a little boy, and moreover, the Reverend knew the director at the Denver orphanage and had assured them repeatedly Red Eagle would be happy there. And Sully had decided Red Eagle couldn't stay with them any longer. His blood was Crow, and the Crow had helped General Custer murder Cheyenne.

"All aboard!" the conductor shouted.

Sully was surprised at how difficult he found it to say goodbye when the moment came. He picked up Red Eagle, holding him tight to his chest.

"Do your best to make friends," he murmured. "And work hard on your lessons."

Sully held him tighter, then put him on his feet. "All right. Best get on the train."

"Bye, Sully," Red Eagle whispered, picking up his satchel and his stuffed bear.

Sully led Michaela a few paces away to give them a little privacy. "Wire me when ya get there, let me know you're all right."

"I will."

"Make sure ya lock your door at the hotel. And don't walk anywhere. Take a streetcar."

"Sully, I'll be fine. It's only for one night." She grasped his hand. "I was thinking, after I've gotten him settled in at the orphanage, I was thinking I should stop and see Dr. Bernard. His office is only a few blocks from the orphanage."

"Dr. Bernard? Why? Somethin' wrong?"

"No, I don't think so. It's just, I haven't had an examination since…since before Jack was born. I'm getting older and…it would only be for my own peace of mind. Perhaps he'll have some advice. He does specialize in these matters."

He smiled and kissed her. "We managed just fine on our own in the past. I'm pretty specialized at this kind of thing myself," he whispered.

"Still, it can't hurt to get another doctor's opinion. And as long as I'm going to be in Denver." She squeezed his hand. "Sully, I want to do this for you, for us. But truthfully, I don't feel confident I can. I want to ask for his help upfront."

He nodded, relenting. "Well, it don't sound like a lot of fun."

She chuckled despite herself. "Not exactly."

"But I guess it's a good idea. You should stop by." He drew her into a warm hug. "Good luck at that orphanage. I'm sure it's gonna be fine."

She kissed him as the train blew its final whistle. "I'll miss you."

"All aboard!" the conductor shouted again.

Michaela stepped back and grasped Red Eagle's hand, leading him up the train steps. They took a seat and opened the window, waving at Sully as the train slowly pulled away.

& & &

Mr. Connelly sat at his large desk and filled out an elaborate form. Michaela and Red Eagle watched him work from their chairs across from him.

"How old are you, boy?" he asked, his Irish accent thick but discernable.

"Seven, sir," Red Eagle spoke up, hugging his bear tightly. "Going on eight."

"Mother's name?" he asked, glancing at Michaela.

"Harriet Randolph," Michaela said.

"Father's name?"

"Strikes the Bear," she replied.

He raised an eyebrow. "Strikes the Bear?"

"That's correct."

Mr. Connelly reluctantly scratched down the name. "All righ' then. Could you step out into the hallway please, young man?"

"Yes, sir," the little boy replied, getting up and quickly making his way out of the room.

Mr. Connelly sat back in his chair. "Well, he looks healthy, strong. And his English is perfect."

"His mother raised him among whites. He didn't know his father."

"Nonetheless, he looks Indian. Dr. Quinn, I must be honest with you. I think he'll find it difficult to make friends here. Any half breed would. Children can be very cruel to anyone different. I pride myself on maintaining order here, but I can't promise they won't gang up on 'im."

"I know. I've prepared him for that."

"It's too bad you couldn't find him a home. A child like that needs parents most of all."

She bent her head solemnly. "We did all we could. There was no one."

He made a few more notes on the paperwork. "Well, we'll take him in if this is what you want. He'll get enough to eat, a bath twice a week, clean clothes, and he'll share a room with the other boys his age. And they all get a few hours of schooling each day." He pushed a piece of paper toward her and dipped his pen into an inkwell, holding it out to her. "Just sign at the bottom and you turn over all responsibility to us."

Michaela quickly signed the document, afraid if she paused she might back out. "Mr. Connelly, do you suppose…you could let me know how he's doing? Just for the first few weeks or so. I promised his mother I'd make sure he's all right."

"Oh, to be sure. I'll wire you."

She opened her purse and took out a small envelope, handing it across the desk. "Here. It's fifteen dollars. All his mother had."

He opened the envelope, glancing at the worn bills. "I see. I'll put it with his records. We could certainly use it." He stood. "Well, lunch will be served in about ten minutes. You should say your goodbyes." He gestured at the door. "I'll do my best, Dr. Quinn. I'll try to acclimate him as quickly as possible."

She nodded and walked to the door, opening it. Red Eagle was sitting patiently on a bench in the hallway.

"This place looks pretty good," he said cheerfully.

Michaela slowly sat next to him and tried to smile. "Mr. Connelly promised to look after you."

"That's good. He's nice. I like how he talks."

"Red Eagle, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it's come to this. I wish I didn't have to leave you here."

"Mama told me to do what you said," he replied bravely. "That you'll know what's best for me."

She took him in her arms and held him close. "…Goodbye, Red Eagle."

Mr. Connelly appeared in the doorway and smiled faintly at the two embracing.

"Let me show you where to put your things, young man," he spoke up gently.

"Goodbye, Dr. Mike," Red Eagle whispered, pulling back and picking up his satchel.

Michaela watched as the orphanage director led Red Eagle down a long corridor. Red Eagle paused after a moment, turned and waved one last time.

Michaela waved back, a few tears spilling down her cheeks.

& & &

Michaela opened the door of Dr. Bernard's waiting room, surprised at how nervous she was. She had seen Dr. Bernard several times both before and during all of her pregnancies, and Sully had completely supported her in doing so. Sully always spoke highly of him. Michaela supposed that Sully liked the continued reassurance that she was just fine. He had gladly scraped together every penny they had to pay the expensive specialist any time she wanted to see him. She had even lined him up to deliver all three of her babies, trusting him above anyone else, until each time nature decided it wasn't meant to be.

Michaela glanced at a noticeably pregnant young woman waiting on the bench looking through a magazine. For some reason this appointment felt different than the others. She supposed it was because after Jack was born, she had never intended to come back here. She had been so resolute that she was done with it all. As much as she loved their children, she was tired of being pregnant, dreaded giving birth all over again after three very painful deliveries, and was perfectly content about Jack being her last baby. But now, everything had changed.

She approached the secretary's desk timidly.

"Michaela Quinn to see Dr. Bernard," she murmured.

The secretary smiled kindly. "Dr. Quinn, yes he's expecting you. One moment." She rose and exited the room through a door at the side. Seconds later Dr. Bernard came into the room, wearing a white coat. He approached her and shook her hand amicably.

"Dr. Quinn, how good to see you!" he exclaimed. "Come in, come in."

She smiled shyly and followed him into his office. He closed the door after her. "Well, how's the family? The little one must be what, a year old now? My does time fly!"

Michaela bent her head, still finding it difficult to speak of. "Jack passed away a few months ago. It was crib death."

He slowly lowered her chart, his smile fading. "Oh. Oh, Dr. Quinn, I'm so terribly sorry."

She nodded in acknowledgment, swallowing hard.

"Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?"

"I hope so," she replied softly. "We were hoping you could help us have another baby."

Dr. Bernard gestured at the door to the examination room. "Please, change into the hospital gown provided and we'll take a look."

& & &

Dr. Bernard skillfully and methodically inserted his speculum. Michaela grimaced, unconsciously tensing her muscles. She looked at the diagrams the obstetrician had hung on the wall displaying various angles of the female reproductive organs. She suddenly felt even more nervous.

"If you relax this'll be a little easier," the doctor remarked.

Michaela slowly let out her breath, trying to comply. Dr. Bernard was not the gentlest of doctors, but Michaela liked his thoroughness, and his vast experience was reassuring.

"Anything out of the ordinary?" he asked as he worked. "Any unusual or overly painful cycles?"

"No. I've been fairly regular lately."

"That's a good sign," he replied, reaching one hand up and pressing down firmly on her abdomen.

Michaela had to remind herself to just keep breathing. She was much more cautious with her female patients, being as gentle as possible during any necessary examinations. But Dr. Bernard seemed oblivious to any discomfort he was causing her, completely focused on solving the problem at hand quickly and efficiently.

At last he stood, looking a little baffled. "Well, everything looks fine to me. You're quite healthy."

"But not pregnant," she whispered.

He glanced at her. "No." He removed the speculum, placing it aside, then drew the sheet over Michaela's legs. "How long did you say you and your husband have been trying?"

"We haven't exactly been trying yet. At least not very diligently."

"Oh! Well, then, that explains it. You need to give it a good six months before I'll have cause for concern." He walked to his basin and washed his hands. "Keep a record of your monthly. I trust you know how to determine ovulation."

"Yes," she murmured.

He dried his hands and joined her at the examination table. "Certainly conceiving becomes less likely as one gets older. And pregnancy itself can become rather dangerous, as you know. But you've given birth to three children already, three more or less normal pregnancies, and you're as healthy as you were when I first saw you eight years ago. I think your chances are good. I think there's no reason you shouldn't give it a try. Why don't you have my secretary make you another appointment for next November? But I trust you may very well become pregnant before that time and it won't be necessary." He eyed her perceptively. "Is something the matter? Something you haven't told me?"

She slowly sat up, resting her hands in her lap. "No, I just….I've just been wondering if it's too soon."

"Many of my patients have gone on to have other children after the death of a child. I've found the ones who do are much happier, have recovered from their loss much quicker. Dr. Quinn, forgive me if I'm overstepping my bounds, but your child's death has obviously affected you deeply. The sooner you try to go on with your life, the better." He removed his spectacles. "It probably sounds trite to you when someone says they understand. But I believe in this case I do. My wife and I lost our firstborn to cholera. She was about your son's age."

She met his eyes, struck by the pain in them.

"But thank goodness we picked ourselves up and went on to have four more children," he said bravely. "And right away, too." He lowered his eyes. "That was twenty-eight years ago. Twenty-eight. And I still miss our baby girl, think about her all the time. You must face the fact that your life has changed forever. Your loss is permanent and irreplaceable. But eventually you learn to accept your new, different life. I strongly suggest you take whatever steps necessary to embark on this new life." He walked to the door. "But what do I know of it. I'll leave you to change."

"No, I suspect you know quite a bit," she replied quietly. "Dr. Bernard? Thank you. It helps to know other parents have survived it."

"Survive you will. I promise," he replied, opening the door and exiting.

& & &

Michaela stepped down from the train, surprised that Sully and the children weren't there to greet her as they had planned. She circled around the train, looking for their wagon. She finally spotted it heading down the street. She shielded her eyes, perplexed to see that Brian was driving it alone.

"Hey, Ma," Brian called, pulled the reins to a stop near the tracks. "How was your trip?"

"It was fine," she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Sorry I'm late. I was droppin' the kids off at Grace's." He jumped down and took her carpetbag, throwing it in back.

"Brian, be careful," she said, shaking her head.

"Sorry," he said with a smile.

"Why are Katie and Byron at Grace's? I thought everyone was going to meet me at the station."

He gave her a hand up onto the seat. "Not anymore. They're spendin' the night with her and Robert E. And I'm goin' to Matthew's."

She couldn't help but be a little put out that no one had consulted her about the change in plans. "What's this about? Where's Sully?"

He grinned, climbing up after her and taking the reins. "Pa said to tell ya don't ask questions, just get in the wagon."

& & &

Brian carried Michaela's carpetbag up to the porch and placed it near the door.

"There ya go, Ma. I'll see ya tomorrow." He gave her a quick kiss, then climbed back up on the wagon.

"Thank you, Brian," she called, waving as he drove away. She picked up her carpetbag and opened the door. A variety of tantalizing aromas filled the house.

Sully was waiting at the door and immediately hugged her close, lifting her off the floor a few inches. "Hey. I missed you."

She instantly smiled. "Mm, I missed you, too."

He put her back on her feet and entered the kitchen. "Hungry?"

"So that's what this is about," she said wryly, approaching the table.

Sully had put out a lacey white tablecloth and their best china, and lighted two tall white candles.

"Sully, it's beautiful," she said.

"The kids helped," he said, coming back into the room with a platter of steaming breaded trout and another platter of mixed vegetables. "Brian and me caught 'em this mornin'," he said, placing the platters in front of her.

"Sounds like everyone was in on your little surprise," she said as he filled their plates full with the meat and vegetables.

"Thought we could use a little time to ourselves," he explained, filling two teacups with hot coffee. "You been so busy with Red Eagle, we ain't seen much of each other." He pulled out her chair, guiding her to sit. "And I wanted to let ya know how proud I am of ya."

"Proud?"

"The way ya took him under your wing when nobody else would. How hard ya worked to try to find him a home even though ya knew the chances weren't good."

"But I failed," she murmured.

"No, ya tried harder and longer than I'm sure Hattie ever expected anybody to do. That's one thing I love about ya, how determined ya can get." He kissed her softly.

"Determined, or stubborn?" she replied with a small smile.

He returned the smile and took a seat. "Let's eat."

"I can't wait," she said, picking up her fork and knife.

"So tell me how it went. How was the orphanage?" he asked, taking a large bite of the fish.

"It really was quite pleasant," she said optimistically, cutting into her fish. "The children looked clean and happy. It wasn't very crowded. And Mr. Connelly's very kind." She thought a moment. "I used to help my father when he would visit one of the orphanages in Boston. They always had a horrible lice problem."

"But this place wasn't like that," Sully replied.

"No, not at all. It was much nicer. Father would have been impressed."

"Sounds like Red Eagle'll be all right there." He took a sip of coffee. "You feeling any better about this?"

"A little, now that we've decided where he'll live and gotten him settled." She pushed around her food a moment. "I still worry how the other children are going to feel about him."

"Michaela, he's gonna have to learn to live with other folks not liking him. Maybe that place'll be good for him, teach him to stand up for himself."

"Sully, would you have married me if you were Indian?" she asked suddenly, looking up from her plate.

"You know I would."

"What if the Reverend wouldn't marry us because of it?"

"I reckon we'd have to do it ourselves, just like Hattie and Strikes the Bear did."

"Do you think perhaps it's unfair? Knowing that your children will be…knowing how hard it would be on any children."

He slowly took a sip of coffee, obviously having given the subject a lot of thought. "I think if ya got the right adults in your life, helpin' to guide you, helpin' ya through the hard times, you can overcome anything." He paused. "I'm sure Hattie and Strikes the Bear thought about all this. If they were still alive they woulda made sure their son made it through."

"But they're not. He's all alone." She took a small bite of fish.

"Not anymore. Like ya said, he's at a good orphanage now." He glanced at her plate. "Food good?"

"Yes, delicious," she said, reaching out and squeezing his arm. "Thank you, Sully. This has been wonderful. I really needed it."

He leaned forward and kissed her. "It ain't over yet."

& & &

Sully added a bucket of steaming water slowly to the tub. Michaela was resting against the back of the tub, enjoying the warm water and bubbles. Sully squatted beside her.

"How's it feel? Too hot?" he asked. He found his eyes wandering downward to gaze lovingly at her figure.

"No, it's perfect," she replied. "This was a good idea. There's nothing like a hot bath after a long train ride."

"…Yep," he replied, clearly distracted.

She opened her eyes, catching him looking at her. "Sully," she scolded.

He slowly looked up. "What?"

"You were staring at me like a schoolboy," she said, cheeks flushing.

He grinned impishly. "I just wanted a peek at 'em. That all right?"

She tugged on his shirt sleeve. "Get in here, peeping Tom."

He smiled and stood, removing his shirt, kicking off his boots and stepping out of his buckskins. Michaela leaned forward and he stepped behind her and sat down in the sudsy water.

"This is much better," she murmured, resting back against his chest and closing her eyes again.

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek to hers. "You have time to stop by Dr. Bernard's?" he asked tentatively. "Ya ain't mentioned it."

"Yes."

"And?"

She shrugged. "There's not much to tell. He said we shouldn't start worrying until we've been trying at least six months."

"So everything looks all right?"

She popped a few soap bubbles with one finger. "He did say that I'm getting older, that we'll probably find it more difficult to conceive. And that pregnancy might be harder on me."

"But he still thinks it's all right to go ahead?" he asked. "Michaela, if he thinks it's too dangerous for ya to be pregnant again…."

"No. He said I'm perfectly healthy and he thinks there's no reason we shouldn't try," she replied, swallowing.

He caressed her shoulder. "Then what's the matter?"

She sighed. "Nothing. I was relieved. I've thought about this a lot and I think you're right, I think having another baby is exactly what we need right now. I just don't want you upset if…if it doesn't happen." She looked down timidly. "I don't want to disappoint you, that's all."

"Disappoint me," he murmured. "Michaela, you could never disappoint me. I know it may not happen, and I'm all right with that. I'm just happy you want to try. If it happens, that's good. If it don't, that's all right, too."

He turned her head to kiss him. "Oh, Sully. You don't know how much that puts me at ease."

"Let's just relax about this, not worry about it." He stroked her thigh lovingly. "It don't gotta be somethin' that keeps us awake nights."

She sighed. "It's other things that keep me awake nights."

He held her close, closing his eyes. "…Jack?"

She gazed down at the water, unable to speak.

"Michaela, we're doin' things that are gonna help us move on. Things like taking a night for ourselves is gonna help us do better with what happened."

"Yes, you're right," she whispered.

"When he passed on, I promised myself you and me would make it through. That our marriage was strong enough to make it through this." He kissed her cheek. "Everythin' we're doing is helpin' us move forward. Helpin' us to stay strong."

She rested back against him and held his hand, comforted by his reassuring words.

& & &

Michaela wrapped her legs tightly around Sully's back, panting as he kissed her neck hard. The urgency of his lovemaking surprised her at first, but she quickly found herself enjoying it. They always had to be so reserved for fear of waking someone, but without any children in the house tonight, they didn't have to worry about being modest. Michaela had taken advantage of the freedom to be as vocal as she wanted, and Sully liked that she was so uninhibited. It had been so long since they had really taken the time to give each other pleasure. They hadn't made love very much since Jack passed away, but when they did it had always been rather hurried, as if they were trying to fit it in somewhere in their busy schedules out of some sense of obligation. But tonight they had retired to the bedroom as soon as they finished bathing, closed the door and dimmed the lamps, and had simply enjoyed being with each other without worrying about any of the children needing them, what else had to be done or what time they needed to be awake the next morning.

At last Sully let out a deep sigh and shuddered in her arms.

Michaela gazed up at him lovingly, slowly guiding his head down to rest close to hers as he caught his breath. She suddenly chuckled.

"What?" he whispered, taken aback.

"Mm, that was good," she whispered, smiling exhaustedly and smoothing a droplet of sweat from his brow.

"I guess so. Folks probably heard ya all the way in town," Sully replied wryly.

She glanced at him, a little embarrassed, but the look in his eyes immediately reassured her he had loved any sounds she had made.

"I should get rid of the kids more often," he added.

She giggled, cuddling against him.

He slowly cupped her face with one hand, stroking her soft, flushed cheek. "Think ya can sleep? We really been needin' a nice long rest. No interruptions."

"With you right next to me like this, I could sleep for days," she replied, giving him a gentle kiss. "Don't move, Sully."

"I ain't goin' anywhere," he replied, continuing to stroke her cheek and gaze at her adoringly. "Been awhile since I had ya to myself. I ain't gonna waste it."

Happy and very comfortable in his arms, she closed her eyes and fell into a much needed deep sleep.

& & &

Red Eagle slowly wandered the small play yard by himself, carrying the stuffed bear Michaela had given him by the arm. The other orphans were playing together, the boys tossing a ball or playing leap frog and the girls playing with their rag dolls or jumping rope. Not surprisingly, they didn't want to include him in their games. He was new, and it was always hard for them to warm up to someone new, and he looked different from everyone else, causing the children to distrust him all the more. A few of the nuns had tried to force him to join in over the past few days, but the other children would have none of it.

Red Eagle missed Byron and Katie terribly. He had never had playmates like them. He had never had playmates at all until Byron and Katie met him and immediately included him in everything they did without a care about who he was or what he looked like. He missed playing jacks and checkers, tossing the ball, fishing and going on walks in the woods with them. And he really missed Michaela. Besides his mother, no one had ever been so kind to him. She had talked with him and listened to him for hours on end on their long drives. She seemed to really care what he thought. He loved the funny stories she would tell him, and was fascinated by everything about her, from her childhood in the big city of Boston to her bold move out West to all the adventures she and Sully had shared. She read to him at night along with the other children, and hugged and kissed him all the time. She had never looked at him like he was different or strange. Instead, she looked at him like he was important and special.

He gazed at the bear with a sigh. It was the only thing he had left of his time with the Sullys, and he treasured it.

Just then two of the older boys came up behind him and swiped the stuffed animal from him, laughing loudly.

"Hey!" Red Eagle shouted, stunned. "Hey, give it back!"

The boys tossed it back and forth while Red Eagle chased after it.

"Ya want it, ya want it, ya little Injun baby?" one of them called.

Red Eagle burst into tears, chasing the bear back and forth helplessly. "Stop, stop. Give him back," he sobbed. "Gimme back Jack. He's mine."

"Look at him cryin' like a little girl," one of the boys remarked, amused. "What a baby."

"You really want it back?" the other boy asked. "Ya sure?"

Red Eagle stood there exhaustedly, tears pouring down his cheeks. "P-please. P-please," he whispered. "I want it back."

The boy grabbed one of the arms of the stuffed animal, yanking and twisting it hard. The stitches popped and the arm came off, exposing the white stuffing. Red Eagle watched in horror, mouth going dry.

The boys laughed uncontrollably. They dropped the wounded toy on the ground in front of him and ran off, still laughing.

Red Eagle crouched down, tenderly picking up the bear, the severed arm and some of the stuffing that had fallen out. "Jack, Jack," he cried. "What did they do? Jack, they hurt you." He sniffled and tried to reattach the arm, but it was no use. "I don't know how to fix you, Jack," he sobbed. "Dr. Mike's got bandages at her clinic, but we don't live in Colorado Springs anymore." He rubbed his nose. "Poor, poor, Jack. They killed you, Jack," he whispered. He hugged the little bear to his chest and sat in the dust, weeping over it despairingly.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"Well, Michaela, you did the right thing," Dorothy said, pushing hard on the handle of her printing press and forcing it forward. She glanced at her friend, sighing. "You've got to stop looking so miserable. What more did that woman expect you to do? Knock on every door in the territory?"

Michaela shrugged. "I just hope he's all right there."

"Oh, he'll be fine. You know, I've heard those private orphanages run by the nuns are so much better than the others."

Michaela reluctantly nodded. "It was very nice. And I must admit, I feel like I can focus a little better on matters at hand now that this is over."

Dorothy eyed her perceptively. "Bet Sully feels that way, too."

Michaela bit her lip shyly. "We're trying to have another baby. He thought we should." She sighed. "Sully says it's not about replacing him….Jack."

"Oh, Michaela. Of course it ain't. You're just moving on is all." Dorothy walked up to her and gave her a comforting hug. "This'll be good for the two of you."

"He's trying so hard to help me feel better about everything," she said tearfully. "Losing our baby boy, and now Red Eagle going to the orphanage. I just, I want him to know I want to get better. So much."

"You are going to get better, Michaela," Dorothy said resolutely. "You already are."

She nodded, swiping at her tears.

"Dr. Mike, I've been looking everywhere for you," Horace said urgently, walking into the Gazette. "Telegram came from that orphanage." He held up a yellow piece of paper.

"Oh good, the director told me he'd let me know how it's going," Michaela said, taking the paper and quickly reading it. Her face suddenly fell. "Oh, no. Red Eagle."

"What wrong?" Dorothy asked.

She glanced at her. "He's in the infirmary with a broken arm and ten stitches on his face."

"Ten stitches! What on earth happened?" Dorothy exclaimed.

"The other children beat him," she said solemnly, folding the telegram and rushing out of the Gazette.

& & &

Michaela opened the drawer of her bureau and took out a few blouses, folding them haphazardly and putting them in her carpetbag.

"I want you to listen to Papa and Brian and be on your best behavior," Michaela instructed, finding a pair of shoes and placing them beside her bag.

Byron and Katie were sitting quietly on her bed, watching her pack. They were sick with worry over Red Eagle. Both of them had cried when Michaela told them that the little boy had been hurt. They had even begged to come to Denver with her, but Michaela had gently said that they couldn't this time.

"Is Red Eagle all right, Mama?" Katie asked hoarsely.

She inhaled unsteadily. "I don't know. That's why I have to go to him right away."

"Don't forget stockings, Mama," Byron said helpfully.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Michaela said, quickly opening the drawer and pulling out a few pairs of black stockings.

Sully entered the room out of breath, Brian behind him.

"I just heard," he said.

"They broke his arm, Sully," Michaela said frantically. She picked up her hairbrush and comb and a few other toiletries and dumped them on top of everything. She didn't have time to pack neatly, and she didn't care.

"Mr. Connelly say how bad he is?"

"No. The telegram was so vague."

He crossed the room and grabbed one of his shirts out of the bureau. "I'm comin' with ya."

"You are?" she asked with surprise.

"Ya might need my help," he replied simply, crumpling up his shirt and putting it in her bag. "Brian, can ya stay with the kids a day or two?"

"Yeah, sure, Pa. Anything ya need," Brian replied immediately. "Ya better hurry. Afternoon train leaves in less than an hour."

"Hitch the team for us. Kids, go help him."

The children quickly exited the room. Michaela gazed at Sully a moment, overwhelmed.

He glanced at her. "What? Hurry up or we're gonna miss the train. Next one don't leave until mornin'."

She briefly squeezed his arm. "Thank you, Sully."

He nodded quickly, fastening up the bag. "Let's go."

& & &

Sully found his thoughts wandering to the seven days he had spent in the Orphan Asylum for Destitute and Abandoned Boys, located in the heart of Brooklyn. It was the worst week of his life, and he had long suppressed the memory.

Byron brought his hands up to examine them, holding them in the moonlight. They were red and inflamed from multiple beatings with a ruler. He blew on them, trying to lessen the sharp stinging.

"Govorite li vy po Russki?" a little boy spoke up.

Byron turned his head to glance at him. A boy about his age, thin and dirty, was looking at him curiously.

"Govorite li vy po Russki?" the little boy repeated.

Byron stared at him for a long moment. "I don't understand," he finally whispered.

"That's just Yury. Don't mind him," the boy laying in the cot on the other side of him said. "He was only living in America a few days when his pa got killed in the factory. He can't speak more than two words yet in English."

"Kak tebya zavut?" Yury said.

"Yury, shush up," the other little boy scolded. He was about twelve, and just as thin and dirty as everyone else. "Christ, I can't stand that rubbish. Shush up and go to sleep." He tucked his hands under his head, gazing up at the ceiling. "So, how'd your folks die?"

Byron sniffled, hugging his meager blanket to his chest.

"Don't like to talk about it, huh? Well, that's all right. I'm Georgie, by the way."

"How'd your folks die?" Byron replied quietly.

"They didn't. They just couldn't feed me and my sisters anymore. We had to go here."

"Why couldn't they feed you?" Byron asked with surprise.

"Are you dumb or something? They don't have any money, that's why."

"Oh. We had a farm. My ma grew vegetables. And we had a cow."

"Country boy, huh?" Georgie replied, scratching his shaggy hair. "Well, you're not gonna last long here unless you toughen up." He reached under his pillow and pulled out a piece of bread, biting into it.

"Hey, where'd you get that?" Byron asked, suddenly conscious of his very empty stomach.

"Snuck it. You gotta sneak too if you don't want a growlin' belly all night."

Byron looked at the boy with a newfound respect.

"Don't talk unless they ask you something," Georgie advised. "That shouldn't be hard for you since you don't say much anyway. Work fast on your chores and they won't beat you so much. What you really gotta watch out for is the bigger boys." He eyed him. "They're always cornholing everybody they can hold down. They catch a little runt like you and you don't got a prayer."

"What's that? What do you mean?"

"You know, like what dogs do to a female that comes 'round in heat. Did it to me when I was your age until I got big enough to fight 'em off."

Byron look at him, horrified. Tears slipped down his cheeks. He had never missed his mother more than at that moment. He rubbed at his tears.

"Here, you can have the rest," Georgie whispered, handing him the piece of bread.

"Thanks," Byron said tearfully, biting into the stale bread. He knew right then he would run away as soon as he could. He didn't want to spend another cold, lonely night in that orphanage.

Sully stared out the train window as the trees flew by, haunted by the memories.

"Sully? Sully?" Michaela said. She touched his arm. "Sully, didn't you hear me?"

Sully suddenly noticed Michaela was no longer dozing against his shoulder.

"Huh?" he said.

"Never mind. It wasn't important." She squeezed his arm.

He smiled faintly and grasped her hand, drawing it into his lap. "Ya sleep some?"

"Yes, quite a bit I think. How much longer do you think until we get there?"

"Just relax. Train can't go any faster."

She gazed up at him lovingly. "I'm trying, but I can't wait to see him."

"I just hope he's all right," he said, resting his chin on his fist. "I knew we never shoulda sent him there."

She looked at him with surprise. "But you said it was best for him. You wired the orphanage yourself."

"Well, I made a mistake," he said firmly. "Orphanages….they ain't a happy place."

She squeezed his hand, sensing something amiss. "Sully….what are you thinking about? What's upsetting you?"

He swallowed hard. "I know because I was put in an orphanage. After my ma died. I ran away after a week."

"Oh, Sully. Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I made myself forget about it. Until now."

"Where was it? The city?"

"Brooklyn," he murmured. "It was run by the state, and it was dirty and cold and we never got enough to eat." He looked at his palms. "And they beat me. They drew blood."

"Oh, you must have been so frightened," she said. "It sounds terrible."

He glanced around. Most passengers were sleeping or busy reading or looking out the window.

"Michaela, that's not the half of it," he whispered. "There were some older boys there, a gang. They went after the smaller ones. Torturin' 'em…..sodomizin' 'em with things you don't even want to know."

"Oh, my God," she murmured, throat going dry. She squeezed his hand tearfully. "Sully, you weren't…?"

"I got out of there before they could get me," he said reassuringly.

She brought his hand up and kissed it several times, immensely relieved. "To have just lost your mother and then to be sent to a place as dreadful as that. I don't know how your survived."

"I wouldn't of, I know that. Not if I didn't run away when I did," he replied, putting his arm around her and holding her to him.

She closed her eyes and held him, grateful to know at least he hadn't spent very long in the orphanage.

"I love you. I'm so glad you came with me," she whispered.

"Me, too," he whispered back, kissing her head.

& & &

Mr. Connelly led Michaela and Sully down a long hallway, a nun trailing behind them.

"I warned you the children would gang up on him," Mr. Connelly said.

"I expected some teasing, a little roughhousing, but nothing like this," Michaela replied. "He was lucky he wasn't hurt any worse."

"I assure you I'm punishing the perpetrators severely." He paused at a door labeled Infirmary. "Once he recovers I'll have to keep him from the others. I'll have to give him a bed with the infants and assign one of the sisters to him to give him schooling on his own."

"I'll make sure this doesn't happen again," the nun added.

"But how will he ever make friends?" Michaela questioned. "No, that doesn't seem right, keeping him by himself all the time."

"What do you suggest I do?" he demanded. "Dr. Quinn, have you ever seen the way chickens will attack another chicken different from them? They will peck and peck at it until they've killed it."

"He's a little boy, not livestock," Sully said angrily, opening the door and guiding Michaela inside.

Red Eagle was resting on a narrow hospital bed in the middle of the empty room. His little arm was in a cast up to his elbow. One eye was bruised a dark blue and a row of stitches was at his hairline. He hugged his bear with his other arm.

Michaela rushed to his side, falling to her knees. "Red Eagle," she whispered.

The little boy opened his eyes, shocked to see her. "Dr. Mike!"

"Oh, I'm here," she said, stroking his hair and kissing him. "I'm here now, it's all right. How's your arm? Sore?"

"Yeah," he admitted, grabbing her hand and squeezing. "Jack hurt his arm, too. See?" he told her forlornly.

"Jack?" Michaela murmured. "Oh, your bear." She briefly touched the split stitches. "I'll fix him for you in no time, don't worry about that."

He immediately brightened. "Oh, you will?"

"Where's the doctor?" Michaela demanded, glancing back at Mr. Connelly. "I want to talk to him."

"A few nurses from the hospital down the street stop by every morning. They left hours ago."

"You mean he wasn't even seen by a doctor?"

"No need. They were quite capable of tending to him," Mr. Connelly replied.

"One of them gave me a drink of milk," Red Eagle whispered.

Michaela pulled back the sheet and carefully lifted him into her arms. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Wait just a minute. What are you doing?" Mr. Connelly demanded, stepping toward her. "You can't move him."

Michaela pressed his head against her shoulder. "We're taking him out of here."

"But you entrusted him to us," he protested.

"Not anymore," Michaela said as Sully put his hand on her shoulder and led her out of the room.

& & &

Michaela's back ached and her arms were growing weak, but she was determined to carry Red Eagle the several blocks to the hotel. She wanted the little boy to know she wasn't going to leave his side.

"Dr. Mike, when we going to be there?" Red Eagle asked tiredly.

"We're almost there," Michaela said reassuringly. "Just hold on a little longer and then you can go to sleep. We have a big soft bed and lots of pillows."

"Oh, good," he murmured, closing his eyes.

They reached the hotel steps and a bellhop opened the front door for them, gazing at the little boy curiously. Michaela and Sully walked past the front desk and headed for the stairs to their room.

"Excuse me. Excuse me, Mr. Sully, Mrs. Sully," the hotel manager called from the desk.

Michaela and Sully paused, slowly turning to face him.

The manager straightened his coat and approached them, eyeing the exhausted child uncomfortably. "Who's this here?" he asked.

"He's…he's a friend of ours," Michaela explained.

"He looks Indian. Or Mexican."

"He's part Crow," Sully said impatiently. "Now if ya don't mind we'd like to take him up to our room."

The manager cleared his throat. "I'm very sorry, sir, but we don't allow Indians, Crow or otherwise. Hotel policy."

"Ya want more money? I'll pay for him," Sully offered.

"It's not a question of money," he explained gingerly. "We just, we can't have you offending the other guests."

"He's a child," Michaela said angrily. "And he needs to be with me. I'm his doctor."

"What is he, sick? All the more reason he can't be here. This is one of the finest hotels in Denver. We have a reputation to maintain. I'm sorry, but you'll have to take him elsewhere. Please, don't make me ask the authorities to step in."

Sully eyed him vehemently, then grasped Michaela's arm and led her back toward the door.

"Sully, what are we going to do?" she asked as they lingered outside the hotel. "Sully, he's exhausted. He needs to go to bed."

"Let me take him," he said, lifting the little boy into his arms and rubbing his back. "How ya doin', Red Eagle?"

"I'm really sleepy," he murmured, rubbing his uninjured eye.

"Yeah, I know. Me and Dr. Mike are gonna take care of things. You just hang on."

"Maybe he was bluffing," Michaela said weakly. "About getting the authorities involved."

"I don't think so," Sully replied, walking a few steps down the sidewalk and looking at the side of the hotel.

He motioned with his head. "Over here. There's a back door."

Michaela quickly following him. Sully looked around them, then carefully opened the door.

Two maids were in the small dressing room the door opened into, changing out of their uniforms. One was in her bloomers and screeched when the door opened.

"Excuse us, ladies," Sully said, quickly leading Michaela across the room and opening the door at the other end. They found the back stairs used by the maids, bellhops and other employees and made their way quietly to the second floor and to their room.

& & &

"Fast asleep," Michaela remarked as she carefully cleaned Red Eagle's stitches with a damp cloth.

"He gonna be all right?" Sully murmured, arms folded as he stood at the foot of the bed and watched her tend to the little boy.

"Well, it looks like those nurses took good care of him. They did good stitch work. He should be fine." She closed her medical bag and put it aside.

Loud knocking on the door startled them. Michaela glanced at Sully with alarm.

"Take him to the washroom," he whispered, walking briskly to the door. "Hide."

Michaela quickly picked up the little boy and headed to the washroom, closing the door tight after them.

"Who is it?" Sully called.

"I'm Mr. Howard. I own this hotel," a man shouted.

Sully fumbled with the lock and slowly opened the door. "Something wrong?"

"One of my maids informed me you brought that child up here," the elderly but dignified man said impatiently. He wore an expensive suit and had bushy sideburns.

Sully chuckled nervously. "Who, the Indian boy? No, we took him back to the orphanage a couple hours ago."

"My employees have already told you of my hotel's policy, Mr. Sully. Either remove the Indian or you and your wife are welcome to check out immediately."

"Your maid must be mistaken," Sully replied calmly.

The owner opened the door wider and walked in. "Where's the misses?"

"Washroom. She ain't been feeling well."

The owner eyed him skeptically. "I'd like to talk to her." He took a step toward the washroom.

Sully grasped his shoulder, stopping him. "Unless you got intentions of walkin' in on my wife, maybe ya better just leave us to go to bed."

The owner crossed his arms and stood impatiently for a long moment. At last he turned and headed back to the door. "This is against my better judgment. I want you out of here in the morning," he said firmly. "All three of you." With that he slammed the door.

"He's gone," Sully called.

Michaela opened the door and returned to the bed, putting Red Eagle back under the covers. The little boy whimpered

"Go back to sleep," Michaela whispered, smoothing his hair. She glanced at Sully. "He's letting us stay."

"He knows he's here," Sully remarked. "Wants us out tomorrow."

She shook her head. "How can we send him back to that orphanage?"

He joined her at the bed and rubbed her back, gazing down at him.

"Isn't he darling, all curled up asleep like that?" she murmured, grasping Sully's hand. "…Sully, what would you think if we…"

He glanced at her hesitantly.

She looked back at Red Eagle. "We can't take him back to that orphanage, and I can't imagine starting all over trying to find him a family somewhere in Colorado Springs. Sully, he has no one."

He gazed at the little boy reluctantly. "Michaela, we take him in, every day is gonna be like today. We're gonna have to hide him from folks just so's he can come places with us, like we did just now. Teresa don't want him to go to school, folks in town don't even like him comin' to church. Every day is gonna be a fight."

"Sully, if we don't fight for him….who will?" She turned to face him more directly. "You said yourself a child like him can overcome anything if the right adults are guiding him."

"I said that?" he asked skeptically.

She smiled softly. "I distinctly remember. Sully, we can be those adults. We have a chance to help this little boy have a good childhood, prepare him for the future. We've both led unconventional lives. Most people think we're different. Who better to help him learn to live with his differences?"

He pressed his fingers to his chin, digesting her words.

She slowly stood and walked to the window, looking up at the starry sky. "When Jack died, the Reverend told me God had a reason. That this was all part of God's plan. At the time I couldn't fathom what reason there could possibly be to take my baby away from me."

Tears welled in his eyes, and he swallowed hard.

"Sully, what if this is the reason?" she went on, turning back to face him. "Maybe Red Eagle was meant to come into our lives. He lost his parents, and we lost our child. Our children lost their brother. Maybe we were meant to meet each other."

He was quiet a long moment, gazing at Red Eagle. Michaela was right, it did seem meant to be that Red Eagle showed up in town when they were both at their worst after the death of their child. Sully couldn't deny that the little boy had helped Michaela cope with their loss when no one else could. "Guess it looks that way, don't it," he admitted.

"Then are you saying…we're going to do this?"

"This ain't gonna be easy, Michaela," he warned. "I don't think we know what we're gettin' into."

"I know it's not going to be easy," she replied. "I know that. But you and I can make a good life for him. Please, Sully, let's bring him home. Please." She looked at him plaintively.

He met her eyes. She so rarely asked him for anything. She had done without for years because he hadn't been able to find steady work and they needed every penny of her more stable income to feed and clothe their children and provide for the family's necessities. When he decided she'd better not send away for that hat or gown or other luxury item she really wanted, she hadn't protested. Now she was asking him to say yes to adopting a child, no small request. But he couldn't tell her no to this. Not after how devastated she had been about losing Jack, and how much better she had been since she met Red Eagle.

"All right," he whispered at last, swallowing hard.

She rejoined him at the bed and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Sully. I know we can do this. I've wanted this for so long."

"Ya sure tried to hide it."

"At first it just felt wrong somehow," she explained. "Loving another child after Jack passed away. But now…it feels right now. Everything does."

He kissed her softly. "Should we wake him?"

She smoothed the child's hair and kneeled down, giving him a gentle kiss. "Let's let him sleep. We'll tell him in the morning." She tucked her arm under the boy and cuddled him to her chest as Sully grasped her hand and kissed it. They watched Red Eagle sleep for several minutes before curling up on either side of him and falling asleep themselves.

& & &

Michaela cut eagerly into her sausage. Sully had brought up a tray of food for breakfast and they had started eating while they waited for Red Eagle to wake.

"This hotel always has delicious food," she remarked.

"Your appetite's been real good lately," Sully said, taking a bite of scrambled eggs.

"That's a nice way of saying I'm getting fat," she replied wryly, cutting another piece of sausage.

"No, I ain't sayin' that. You could stand to gain a little weight anyways. Ya lost a lot after Jack passed on." He smiled softly. "If we're gonna have a baby, you should be as healthy as possible, huh?"

"I suppose you're right. I should start paying better attention to how I'm eating."

"Sides, ya better eat while ya can. You were so sick with Jack those first couple months."

She smiled. "Oh, remember? That was so horrid. I didn't think it was possible to throw up that much."

"I thought it might kill ya," he said with a soft chuckle.

"And I recall thinking that was the absolute last time I was going to be pregnant," she said with a wry smile. "That I was never going to let you so much as look at me again."

He smiled proudly. "I see I got ya to change your mind."

"Can I have some?" Red Eagle called quietly.

"Oh, sweetheart. You're awake," Michaela said with a smile, turning in her chair to face him. "Of course you can have some."

Sully dished up some eggs and sausage links for him. "Come on over here."

Red Eagle got out of bed and scurried over, climbing into the empty chair beside Michaela and picking up his fork.

"Are you going to have a baby, Dr. Mike?" Red Eagle asked curiously, taking a big bite of the eggs. "Your tummy's not really that big. Maybe it's just a little bigger than a few weeks ago."

Sully chuckled softly, taking a sip of coffee.

Michaela glanced at Sully shyly. "No, I'm not having a baby. Not yet anyway. But Sully and I would like to."

The little boy quickly shoveled some more eggs into his mouth. "I hope you do. You're a really good ma."

Michaela put her arm around him, touched. "Oh. Thank you."

"That she is," Sully said with a smile.

"Oh, I fixed your bear this morning," Michaela said, reaching for the stuffed animal on the chair on the other side of her and handing it to him. "I had some fine suturing thread in my medical bag."

Red Eagle examined the bear's arm. Michaela had sewn it back on skillfully. He could barely see the black stitches. No one would be able to tell that it had ever been severed.

"Oh, Jack, you're all better now," he said joyfully. "I knew Dr. Mike could fix you if she just got the chance."

"Dr. Mike was up at five in the mornin' workin' on that for you so ya could have it when ya woke up," Sully told him softly.

Red Eagle looked at her with appreciation, hugging his bear. "Thank you, Dr. Mike. Thank you."

She smiled and patted his shoulder. "I'm a doctor. I had an obligation to stitch him up."

Red Eagle took a big bite of eggs and then unfolded his napkin, grabbed a handful of sausage and placed it in the center.

"Red Eagle, what on earth are you doing?" Michaela asked.

He reluctantly slowed his chewing and swallowed. "Sorry. It's just…the food's not that good in the orphanage. I figured I could take some of this back to eat next time I get hungry."

Michaela patted his back. "Actually, Sully and I want to talk to you about the orphanage."

"I'm really sorry I got in that fight," Red Eagle said guiltily. "All I do is cause trouble. I bet you're sorry you met me."

"Hush, of course not," Michaela quickly admonished. "Red Eagle, you're the best thing that's happened to me since my son Jack was born, don't you know that?"

"I am?" he replied, flabbergasted.

"You don't really want to go back to that place, do you?"

He bit his lip. "Well, Mr. Connelly's nice. And they really do try hard to make the food good. I just don't think they're very good at cooking. I wish you could help them. Your cooking's good."

"It is?" Sully replied.

Michaela smiled at him intrepidly. "See, he appreciates it."

"And my bed's right near the stove so I'm not very cold," Red Eagle added.

Michaela was amazed at his optimism. "Sweetheart, you don't have to pretend you like the orphanage for our sake. We know it's not very pleasant there."

He bent his head. "Mama told me make the best of what happens."

"You have, and I know she's so proud of you," Michaela whispered. "But Sully and I don't want you going back to the orphanage. In fact we refuse to send you back there. Not after what happened to you. Besides, we've found a home for you in Colorado Springs."

His eyes brightened. "You did?! With who?"

Michaela smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. "With us. With Sully and me."

Red Eagle slowly put down his fork, stunned. He looked at Sully, then at Michaela, too overcome to speak.

"Would you like that? Would you like to come home with us?" Michaela asked, voice filled with emotion.

He stepped down from his chair and walked to her, silently wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly.

"Oh," Michaela whispered, stroking his hair as he closed his eyes and held on all the tighter.

"Guess that's a yes," Sully whispered.

Michaela drew him into her lap, rocking him. "Everything's going to be all right now. You're coming home with us."

to be continued...please leave reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten **

"Don't tell Ma about all that cake I let ya have at Grace's," Brian said mischievously. "She'll never trust me again."

Katie and Byron held his hands as they watched the train slowly pull up to the station.

"Can we tell her about the pie and popcorn last night?" Byron asked.

"Not that either!" Brian replied with a laugh.

The train stopped in front of them, letting off a cloud of steam. One of the porters opened the door and passengers began stepping down.

"I don't see Mama and Papa," Katie said, bouncing on her toes impatiently.

"Hang on, they'll be here," Brian said.

Suddenly Red Eagle appeared in the doorway and made his way down the steps.

"It's Red Eagle!" Byron shouted, breaking away from his older brother and reaching up to help Red Eagle down the last step. Michaela and Sully followed behind him.

"Red Eagle! You're back!" Katie cried. She and Byron embraced the little boy fondly, suddenly forgetting how much they had missed Michaela and Sully.

"What about me?" Michaela spoke up wryly.

Byron and Katie giggled and hugged her and then Sully.

"I missed you," Michaela said, kissing them each. "Was everything all right with Brian?"

Byron nodded eagerly. "It was great. We didn't eat any pie or cake."

Sully ruffled his hair. "That probably means ya did."

"You brought Red Eagle back!" Byron exclaimed, holding the little boy's hand.

"Are you going to keep looking for a family, Mama?" Katie asked curiously.

"No, we found his family," Michaela said, putting her arm around her. "Us."

"Yippie!' Byron shouted.

"Really, Ma?" Brian said with a smile. "We're gonna adopt him?"

"That's right."

"You hurt your arm and face, Red Eagle," Katie said sympathetically. "Did Mama fix you up?"

"Yeah," Red Eagle said shyly.

Preston paid Horace from a few bills out of his pocket as he noticed the Sullys talking nearby.

"Michaela, just the woman I was hoping to see," Preston called, approaching them and putting his change in his pocket.

"Good morning, Preston," she replied politely as Sully and Brian gathered the luggage and carried it to the wagon nearby.

"It's my fifth year of turning a profit at the Château and I'm going to be marking the occasion with some grand festivities," Preston said.

"Oh, well congratulations."

"I'm inviting my investors of course, and all the foremost citizens of the town."

She raised her eyebrows. "I see."

"That includes you, Michaela." He glanced at Sully, who was putting Michaela's carpetbag in the back of the wagon. "And I suppose you can bring Sully and the children, too. Grace is catering it and she's making her famous blueberry pie. Two o'clock on Saturday."

"Blueberry pie?" Red Eagle spoke up, eyes brightening.

Preston chuckled awkwardly. "I thought I heard you sent him to an orphanage."

"We brought him back. We're going to adopt him."

Preston stared at Red Eagle, flabbergasted. "What? What do you mean? You can't adopt him. He's a half breed."

"Of course we can," she replied.

"Well, I can't have him at the ceremony. What will my investors think?"

"Fine, then I can't come either," Michaela retorted.

"What on earth happened to his face?" Preston asked. "What was he, boxing?"

"He hurt himself," Michaela said intrepidly.

"I can see that," Preston replied.

Sully approached Michaela, glancing at Preston. "Somethin' wrong, Preston?"

"No, nothing, Sully," Preston said. "Michaela was just graciously turning down my invitation to celebrate my successes on Saturday." He tipped his hat. "So sorry you can't make it, Michaela. Good day."

Red Eagle looked up at Michaela timidly. "You can go to the party, Dr. Mike. I don't mind."

"No, I don't want to go. Truly," she said reassuringly, patting his arm. "Come on, let's go home."

& & &

Red Eagle and Byron sat quietly by the creek side with their poles, patiently watching for any movement on their lines.

"I like having you for a brother," Byron remarked. "I got somebody to do boy stuff with me now."

"Don't you care I'm Indian?" Red Eagle asked. "Everybody else does."

"No. Why?"

"I'm not really your brother, Byron. I don't look like you, do I?"

"So? Brian doesn't look like me," he replied. "Jack didn't really look like me either. He had hair like Katie and was a lot shorter."

"That's different. At least you're all white. Since I'm Indian nobody wants to be my friend except you."

Byron stared at the water pensively. "Oh."

"The fish aren't biting today," Red Eagle remarked.

"I know, we could go visit Cloud Dancing. He's our Indian friend," Byron said, drawing in his line. "Maybe some Indian kids there could be your friends. They're nice."

Red Eagle brightened. "Really? There's Indians around here? Like me?"

"Sure, they're over on the Reservation. Come on, let's go!"

& & &

Red Eagle observed the Reservation from the hilltop, shading his eyes.

"How come they live in huts?" Red Eagle asked. "I thought Indians lived in teepees."

"The soldiers took away their teepees. That made my papa really mad," Byron explained. "I hate soldiers. They're so mean to Mama when she comes to help sick people."

"Not all soldiers are mean," Red Eagle replied. "Some are really good and brave. Like the Seventh Calvary."

Byron scratched his head, resting his fishing pole over his shoulder. "Oh. I guess so." He spotted a boy his age carrying wood to his hut. "There's my friend New Arrow. Come on."

The little boys ran down the hill and approached the Cheyenne boy.

"Hey, New Arrow," Byron said cheerfully.

"Byron," he said with surprise. "Did you bring medicine with Dr. Mike?"

"Nope. All alone this time. I got a brother. His name's Red Eagle."

New Arrow brightened, looking Red Eagle up and down. "Hey, you're Indian!" He looked at Byron with confusion. "How did your ma and pa have an Indian? They're white!"

Byron giggled. "My mama isn't his real ma, silly. His folks died. He's our new brother now."

A few other children slowly gathered nearby, curiously eyeing the unfamiliar little boy.

"What happened to your arm?" New Arrow asked, eyeing Red Eagle's cast.

Red Eagle could only look back timidly.

"He broke it at the orphanage," Byron explained. "That's when my mama said he can come home with us."

"Oh. Wanna play?" New Arrow asked. "I'm almost done with my chores."

Stunned, Red Eagle struggled to speak. "I…I-"

"Say yes, Red Eagle," Byron encouraged. "They have really good games."

"Yes," he choked.

New Arrow put his stack of wood next to his hut. "Are you Cheyenne? What tribe are you from?"

"Crow," Red Eagle said shyly.

New Arrow's face suddenly darkened. "Crow!" he exclaimed.

"Byron!" Cloud Dancing shouted, coming behind Byron and Red Eagle and grabbing their arms. "What are you doing?!"

Startled, Byron looked up at him. "Cloud Dancin'. We just…we-we-"

"You must never bring him here!" he said firmly. "Didn't your mother and father tell you?!"

"Tell me what?" Byron choked.

"New Arrow, go in your hut," Cloud Dancing ordered.

New Arrow ran inside without question.

"You disobeyed me," Cloud Dancing said, squeezing his arm tighter. "You put us all in danger. You put yourself in danger, your mother in father. You should be punished."

Frightened by his gruffness, Byron began to cry. He had never seen Cloud Dancing lose his patience, and didn't know what to make of it. "Punished? I didn't mean to, Cloud Dancin'. Don't punish me. Please."

"Punish me, sir," Red Eagle quickly said. "It was my idea to come!"

Surprised, Cloud Dancing eyed him for a moment. At last he sighed. "Come. I will take you home."

& & &

Cloud Dancing banged on the homestead door, brow narrowed crossly. Byron bent his head, afraid to look at him.

Michaela opened the door, an apron tied around her waist. Sully followed behind her.

"Boys, there you are!" she exclaimed. "I was getting worried!"

"Cloud Dancin'," Sully said with surprise. "They give ya a day pass?"

"No, but I had to bring them back. They were on the Reservation," he said, thrusting the boys forward.

Byron dropped his fishing pole and immediately hugged Michaela's waist, resting his head against her belly as tears fell down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mama. I'm sorry. We just wanted to play with some kids there."

Bewildered, Michaela smoothed back his hair. "What's this about? You went to the Reservation?"

"I told you not to bring him there," Cloud Dancing said, glaring at Michaela. "I told you it was not safe."

"They didn't mean any harm, Cloud Dancin'," Sully said.

"All right, stop crying. I'm not angry," Michaela soothed, rubbing Byron's back. "Go to the kitchen and wash up. Both of you."

Red Eagle and Byron hurried to the kitchen, glad to be away from Cloud Dancing.

"If they find out who he is he could be hurt," Cloud Dancing said furiously. "Even killed."

"I don't know why you had to make Byron cry," Michaela retorted. "We didn't tell them not to go on the Reservation. They didn't know."

"If he shows his face again, I will not bring him back. He'll have to fend for himself. He is a ó'xevé'ho'e, a half white man."

"Hey, take it easy," Sully said. "That's our child you're talkin' about."

"Your child," Cloud Dancing muttered. "His father killed my people, Sully! Now you take him in as your own?"

"What happened had nothing to do with Red Eagle!" Michaela said defensively. "Cloud Dancing, he's an innocent little boy."

He eyed her vehemently. "There's Crow in his blood. Someday he will be a man, and will be just like his father."

"If that's how you truly feel, you're no better than all those soldiers who killed Cheyenne children and babies because they would someday grow up," Michaela said tearfully.

Cloud Dancing breathed deeply. "If you want him to be safe, you will keep him off the Reservation." He turned and walked briskly away.

"Cloud Dancin'!" Sully shouted.

Michaela grasped his hand reassuringly. "Let him go. It's all right."

"I never seen him like that. There was hate in his eyes," he murmured.

"Not hate, Sully. Pain," she replied. "Red Eagle reminds him of the atrocities the Cheyenne people have endured."

Sully lowered his eyes. "He's got his own people to think about, protect."

"Sully, we're doing the right thing, even though Cloud Dancing doesn't agree. It's a difficult thing we're doing forgiving his father and welcoming him into our family without judgment. In time, Cloud Dancing will respect that."

He nodded reluctantly, looking out at the road as Cloud Dancing disappeared around the bend.

"Cloud Dancin's my brother. Hate to see somethin' like this come between us," he whispered.

She rubbed his back sympathetically, not knowing how to comfort him. "Let's go inside. Supper's ready."

& & &

Sully roused first to Red Eagle's quiet but steady knocking on their bedroom door. He didn't even have to ask who it was. He knew exactly how Red Eagle knocked, and he knew Katie and Byron would only be up at such a late hour if they were ill or had a bad nightmare, both of which were rare.

"Just hang on, Red Eagle," Sully called softly. He carefully removed his arm from beneath Michaela's neck. She was still exhausted after their trip to Denver and out cold, mouth slightly open and one arm strewn above her head as her chest slowly moved up and down. He wanted to do everything he could to avoid waking her.

He crept out of bed and opened the door. Red Eagle stood in the moonlight despondently.

"What's the matter now?" he whispered, rubbing his eyes.

"My arm really hurts," Red Eagle said soulfully. "I can't sleep. I need medicine."

Sully grasped his little cast gently and raised his arm a few inches.

"Oww," Red Eagle said tearfully.

Sully suspected the little boy was exaggerating, looking for an excuse to come to their room, but he didn't say so. "All right, hang on. Let me talk to Dr. Mike."

He knelt beside the bed, loathed to wake Michaela, but he didn't want to give Red Eagle any medicine without seeing what she thought first.

"Michaela? Michaela?" He rubbed her back as she slowly stirred. "Michaela."

"It can't be morning yet," she muttered hoarsely, disoriented.

He kissed her brow. "Red Eagle's up. Says his arm hurts."

"He's probably just had another bad dream," she said. "He can sleep with me."

Sully shook his head. "We start makin' that a habit and he's gonna be in here every night."

"Sully, I'm too tired for this. Just let him come in," she replied, drawing the covers closer around her and closing her eyes.

"He's knockin' on our door at one in the mornin' practically every other night. When's it gonna stop?" he whispered.

"I think it's normal for a child who just lost a parent to have difficulty sleeping, to be waking like this. We have to be patient."

"What should I give him for his arm?"

"I'll get him something," she said with a sigh, opening her eyes again and pushing back the covers.

"No, you're stayin' here and goin' back to sleep after ya tell me what to give him."

She couldn't muster up much of an argument with him. "Just make him a little willow bark tea then. Sweeten it with some honey. We'll see if that helps."

He covered her again and kissed her brow. "Go back to sleep."

Sully returned to the doorway and grabbed Red Eagle's hand. "Come on. I'll make ya some tea downstairs."

"Can't Dr. Mike help, too?"

"No, Dr. Mike's tired."

"Oh. Sorry I woke her up," he whispered as they made their way down the stairs.

He sighed, trying to remember Michaela told him to be patient. "She don't mind."

"Can I sleep with you after I drink my medicine?" he asked.

"Is that why ya really came to our room?" Sully replied. He lifted him onto the kitchen table and lit a match, dropping it into the stove.

"It's just sometimes Byron snores," he said, clearly making it up as he went along. "And sometimes I get this lump on my pillow that makes my neck hurt."

He put a teakettle on the stove. "You don't want to sleep with us. Don't tell her but Dr. Mike snores louder than any of us. Kicks me, too."

Red Eagle giggled. "On purpose?"

"Sometimes I think so," Sully said wryly. "Don't worry, willow bark tea really helps your aches and pains feel better. It's a Cheyenne remedy. Dr. Mike gives it to everybody."

"I tried to fight back," Red Eagle said solemnly. "I punched this one boy really hard. But they wouldn't stop until Mr. Connelly came and pulled them away."

"How many were there?"

"I don't know. Maybe five."

"When I was your age I used to get in fights a lot."

"How come?" Red Eagle asked. "You're not a half breed."

"No, but I was different. I was real quiet, small for my age, wasn't good at school. I guess other kids didn't like that, so they gave me a hard time." He folded his arms and leaned against the counter. "One time three or four boys twice my size were beatin' me, and there wasn't much I could do. So I laid real still, played dead. They got so scared they ran off."

"That worked?"

"Yep. You remember that, you ever get in a fight ya can't win again."

"I'm glad I live with you now. You know everything," Red Eagle said reverently. He bit his lip tentatively. "Could I call you Pa? Like Byron does?"

Sully bent his head, suddenly very uncomfortable with the idea of that. He thought back to how angry Cloud Dancing was earlier that day.

"Maybe ya just better keep callin' me Sully for now, all right?" he whispered.

Incredibly disappointed, but trying to be brave, Red Eagle managed a nod. "All right, Sully," he whispered back.

& & &

Byron dug his hand into the large bin in the barn, pulling out a handful of beaded necklaces.

"Here's some Indian stuff. We can play with this," he said, handing them to Katie.

Katie gave one of the necklaces to Red Eagle as Byron brought up a small leather bag.

"Here's my arrowheads me and Papa and Brian found in the woods," he said proudly.

Red Eagle pulled out one of the arrowheads, examining it reverently. "Are these from the Crow tribe?"

Byron giggled. "Crow? No, from the Cheyenne."

"We can play Little Big Horn with these," Red Eagle said with a smile. "I'll be the Crow scout, since I'm part Crow. You can be the bad Indians."

Katie looked at him curiously. "Bad Indians?"

"What bad Indians?" Byron asked. "But…Papa said Mr. Custer killed Cheyenne at Little Big Horn."

"No, just the bad ones," Red Eagle explained. "My mama told me my pa was a scout. He knew every single trail, every river in Montana."

"Was your pa Cheyenne, like Cloud Dancin'?" Katie asked.

"No, he was Crow. He worked for General Custer and the army, going after all the bad Indians. Only…they ended up getting killed at Little Big Horn."

"But, General Custer killed Cloud Dancing's wife, and all our friends. It was before we were born," Katie explained. "Papa and Mama told us. He was a real bad man and just wants to hurt people. My papa said so."

"Brian said he deserved to die," Byron added.

"What's Brian know," Red Eagle retorted.

"He knows a lot," Byron said defensively. "He's almost grown up."

"Those Indians were enemies of the Crow," Red Eagle said, brow narrowed. "My mama said my pa was protecting his people."

"They were our friends!" Byron said angrily, giving Red Eagle a firm shove in the chest.

Red Eagle quickly recovered and shoved him back. Byron fell hard on the dirt floor and Red Eagle attacked him again, pinning him down as Byron punched him square in the jaw.

Katie immediately ran out of the barn, spotting Michaela and Sully working in the garden. "Mama! Papa! Red Eagle and Byron are fighting!" she cried frantically.

Sully dropped his shovel and Michaela stopped pulling weeds, and they hurried down to the barn, Michaela holding her sunhat to her head with one hand.

"What's goin' on?" Sully shouted, running into the barn as Red Eagle and Byron rolled around in the dust.

Michaela joined him seconds later, shocked to see the children attacking each other so viciously.

"Boys! Stop it!" she cried.

Sully grabbed Byron by the arms and Michaela grabbed Red Eagle, quickly prying apart the boys. Katie stood in the doorway, silently crying.

"What on earth is going on here?" Michaela demanded furiously.

The boys eyed each other angrily, catching their breaths.

Michaela glanced at Red Eagle. "Oh, your nose is bleeding," she murmured, grabbing a portion of her apron and dabbing a trickle of blood from the little boy's upper lip.

"Who started this?" Sully asked, looking at Red Eagle. "You start this? Somebody better start explainin'."

"I started it, Papa," Byron whispered. "I pushed him."

"I pushed back," Red Eagle said. "It's my fault."

"Why? What were you quarrelling about?" Michaela asked.

The boys both bent their heads guiltily.

"Katie?" Michaela asked. "Do you know what this was about?"

Katie hesitated a long moment, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "We were just…we wanted to play Indians. And he was telling us about…Little Big Horn."

Michaela looked at Sully, swallowing.

"What about it?" Sully murmured.

"He said his pa went after the bad Indians," Byron said. "And I told him they were our friends. And that Brian said Mr. Custer deserved to die. Then he called Brian a liar."

"I did not!" Red Eagle protested.

"All right, that's enough," Michaela said. "Let's get you inside and cleaned up. We'll talk about this later."

& & &

Michaela held Red Eagle's trousers close to the lamp and fitted a patch of a similar color to one of the knees. She carefully began stitching it on as Sully came downstairs.

"I think they're gonna be all right," he remarked, taking a seat in the chair beside her. "They hugged each other goodnight."

She looked up briefly with a relieved smile. "Oh, that's good."

"Here, ya need some more light," he said, reaching forward and turning up the lamp as bright as it would go.

"Red Eagle tore a large hole in both knees fighting. I'm going to be up half the night patching these."

"Do it tomorrow," he said, picking up a copy of the Gazette.

"It can't wait. It's the only pair of trousers he has besides his church clothes. Sully, couldn't we get him some more clothes at the Mercantile? Shirts, pants, a new pair of shoes? I think he really needs it."

He opened the Gazette and skimmed an article. "How much you lookin' to spend?"

"I don't know. I suppose it'll be at least a few dollars."

"Guess we got no choice." He read quietly for a long moment, clearly not interested in bringing up what was weighing heavily on both their minds.

"Sully, we need to talk with them about Little Big Horn," Michaela finally said, looking up from her sewing.

"I already told Katie and Byron about it," he said, shaking the paper open.

"Their version is a little different than what Hattie told Red Eagle."

"It's the right one," he said firmly.

"In our opinion, yes."

He put the paper down. "What're you tryin' to say?"

"Sully, we can't just let this go. We've got to sit down with him and explain about the Cheyenne, the Crow. How not everyone feels the same way about Custer. But we'll emphasize we're certain his father was only doing what he thought was best for his people."

"We don't know that."

"So you want to tell that little boy his father was a murderer?"

"Course not. I'm sayin' we let him believe his version and leave it at that."

"How will we ever come to any understanding if we don't talk about our true feelings about what happened? Sully, we've got to tell him the truth. We've got to tell him the Crow and Cheyenne are enemies, that we don't think Custer is a hero. He's going to figure it out sooner or later. Shouldn't it come from us?"

He put down the paper and stood. "I'm goin' to bed."

"Sully," she said impatiently. "Can't we continue discussing this?"

"Michaela, if you want to talk about this with him, it's all right with me," he murmured, laying one hand on her shoulder lovingly. "But way I see it, Custer got what was comin', simple as that. Now the Cheyenne people can move on. And me. I just, I don't got any desire to bring this all up again."

She reached her hand up and laid it atop his. "All right. I understand. But when I do talk to him, couldn't you be there with me? He needs parents who are working together to do what's best for him. Sully, if he thinks we don't agree….things could break down."

"All right. I'll be there," he agreed. He crouched down and gave her a soft kiss. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she murmured, resting her sewing in her lap and listening to his footsteps as he made his way slowly upstairs.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

"Here, put these on," Loren said gruffly, handing Michaela a small pair of black boots.

Sully boosted Red Eagle onto the counter next to a small pile of new button down shirts, trousers and a pair of suspenders. Sully pulled off Red Eagle's old, tattered shoes. Then he and Michaela quickly tied on the new shoes.

"How do those feel?" Michaela asked.

"Good. These are the best pair of shoes I ever had," he said reverently.

Sully lifted him down. "Walk around. Make sure they don't pinch your toes."

Jake was sniffing some cigars a few feet away, eyeing Michaela and Sully. "How do you know whether to put him in shoes or moccasins?" he asked dryly.

Loren chuckled while Michaela and Sully completely ignored him.

"These are good," Red Eagle said, returning to Michaela and holding her hand. "My toes aren't pinched at all."

"Where'd you get the black eye?" Loren asked, looking down at him disapprovingly. "Causin' trouble?"

"Byron gave it to me," Red Eagle explained.

"And what'd you do to deserve that?" Loren demanded.

"Children fight, Loren," Michaela said. "You don't have to worry. They were back to being best friends within hours."

"I wasn't worried," he retorted. "That's three dollars, fifty cents total. I s'pose you want that on your account."

"No actually," Michaela said, opening her purse and pulling out a few bills and some coins. "We'll pay cash."

"That's a lotta money to be spending on just a half breed, Dr. Mike," Jake remarked.

Michaela squeezed the little boy's hand lovingly. "I'll spend as much as I like on my children."

"Maybe you could get a handout from the government down at the Reservation," Jake suggested.

"Oh, leave 'em alone, Jake," Loren said quietly.

Sully glared at Jake and put his hand on Michaela's back. "Let's go."

& & &

"These feel so much better than my old shoes. They were getting way too small," Red Eagle said reverently, gazing at his feet with a smile as Sully drove the wagon home. He hugged Michaela's arm. "Thank you, Dr. Mike. Sully."

"We're going to provide for you now, all right?" Michaela explained. "Sully and I want you to come to us when there's something you need."

"All right. But I wish we didn't have to go to the store to get it," he replied. "Mr. Bray doesn't like me."

"Sometimes Mr. Bray don't like anybody," Sully told him.

"He likes Katie and Byron," Red Eagle remarked astutely.

"He just needs to get to know you," Michaela said uncertainly. She sighed, smoothing back his hair. "Besides, it doesn't matter if someone doesn't like you. You like yourself, that's what counts."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I like myself. Just wish I looked more like white folks. Wish I didn't look so much like my pa."

Michaela rubbed his back sympathetically. "Red Eagle, what did your mother tell you about your pa?"

"She didn't like to talk about him. It made her too sad," he explained quietly. "All I know is she married my pa when she was a teacher for the Crow. Pa left to go work when I was still in her tummy. He never met me."

"I bet he would have loved to meet you," Michaela murmured.

"He was a scout," Red Eagle said proudly. "He could scout almost as good as you, Sully. I bet he knew how to find the North Star and everything."

Sully gave him a quick glance, briefly smiling softly.

"He scouted for General Custer. Dr. Mike, Mama always said he helped kill bad Indians. But Byron said….he said those Indians were your friends. Did my pa help kill your friends?"

Michaela took a deep breath, not knowing where to begin. "Red Eagle, the Crow are a very noble, brave people. I'm sure your pa was just trying to do what every pa wants. He wanted to work hard so he could support your mother and the baby she was about to have. And he was standing by his people. The Sioux and Cheyenne were camping along the Little Big Horn river. And the Crow are enemies of both those tribes. Your father didn't want any harm to come to his tribe. I'm sure that's why he worked for General Custer."

"The Crow and Cheyenne are enemies," he whispered.

Michaela put her arm around him as Sully continued to stare at the road. "We feel very strongly about the Cheyenne because they saved Sully's life several years ago. Cloud Dancing took him in, and Sully lived with his tribe for awhile, learning their ways. And when I first moved to town a few years later, they saved me too when I was very ill."

She gazed at him worriedly, trying to gage his reaction. "Sully and I don't agree with some of the things General Custer has done, even though most people will try to tell you he's a hero. Before Katie and Byron were born, he attacked a band of Cheyenne. He killed several women and children who had nothing to do with anything. I'm sure your father didn't know about that."

Tears welled in Red Eagle's eyes, and he struggled to keep them in check. "Does this mean…I'm your enemy? Cause I'm part Crow? My people killed your people?"

"No," Michaela immediately said, glancing at Sully helplessly. "Whatever happened at Little Big Horn, that has nothing to do with you. You were just a baby." She held him close and kissed his head. "Red Eagle, we love you, you know that, don't you? We want to be your new ma and pa. It doesn't matter to us what tribe you're from. It doesn't matter to us what you look like. When I look at you I just see a loving, helpful, handsome little boy. I see my new son."

Red Eagle hugged her waist and gazed up at her tearfully. "I see my new mama when I look at you, Dr. Mike."

Michaela kissed him again and glanced at Sully, trying to catch his eye. Sully swallowed and continued to look at the road, remaining quiet.

& & &

Sully pulled a strap tight on their horse as he hitched the wagon. "Ya gotta take him with you today."

"But I have a full schedule of patients," Michaela protested from the porch. "He'll have to sit quietly by himself all day."

"Won't hurt him," he replied, buckling the strap.

"I think he'd enjoy himself much more here," she said. "He could work beside you, help you out."

"No, it ain't a good idea. I gotta stop by Loren's, Robert E.'s. I got a lotta things to do around the homestead. He'll be in the way."

"But he's never been in the way. We couldn't ask for a more easy going child."

He climbed up into the wagon seat, grabbing the reins. "Michaela, just…just take him with you. All right?"

She sighed. "All right. I suppose I could put him to work rolling bandages."

"Good," he murmured as the children opened the front door.

"All set?" Michaela asked. "Get in the wagon."

"I wish you could come to school with us, Red Eagle," Katie said as the three children piled into the back of the wagon.

"He's coming to the clinic today with me," Michaela said quietly.

"Not again. That's not fun," Byron remarked.

"I don't mind it," Red Eagle said as cheerfully as he could manage.

Sully reached his hand down and helped Michaela into the wagon. "He'll have to stay with your ma during the day until we can work out something with Miss Teresa about sending him to school." He flicked the reins, starting the wagon toward town.

& & &

Sully walked into the store, spotting Loren doing inventory of some flatware in one corner of the store.

"Hey, Loren? I need a couple yards of chicken wire. Ya got it?" he called.

"I'll be with you in a minute," the storekeeper replied as he wrote down some numbers.

"Loren, the foxes are gonna get at all our chickens before I get to these repairs."

He sighed, putting his pencil behind his ear. "All right, all right. It's out back." He grabbed a pair of wire cutters from behind the counter and led Sully outside.

"Where's that Indian boy this morning?" Loren asked, walking around the side of the store and opening his shed. "Not at school I hope."

Sully found the spool of chicken wire and dragged it out. "With Dr. Mike at the clinic."

"Wouldn't it be better if he helped out you today?"

"Didn't know you cared what he did with his time," Sully replied, rolling out several feet of the wire on the ground.

"I'm just saying a boy needs a father figure. All he's been around is womenfolk his whole life. He need a man to teach him things he should know, like how to make repairs. You don't want him to turn into a mama's boy, do you?"

"Can't have him underfoot is all," Sully replied simply.

Loren eyed him perceptively. "You don't like him, do you? That's what this is. You can't fool me, Sully." Sully took the wire cutters from him, not replying. He cut quickly through the tough wire, biting his lip.

Loren put his hands on his hips. "You resent his father and now you're holdin' what he done against the boy, too. Sully, maybe those Crow scouts were doin' the right thing. They were cooperating with the law, with the Army. Why, his father was almost a hero."

"Hero? I got a hard time understandin' a man who would sell his services to General Custer after all the women and children he killed. The Cheyenne are my family. Red Eagle's father wanted to kill my family."

"Then why in tarnation didn't you just turn him over to that orphanage?" Loren exclaimed. "You don't even like the boy and now you want to take him in as your own?"

"Gonna try and make it work," Sully replied, quickly rolling up the wire and picking it up.

"But why?" Loren asked with confusion. "Sully, he's just a half breed. He's not Indian, he's not white. What's he mean to you? This was all Dr. Mike's doin', wasn't it? The way that woman's got you going along with every hair brained idea she gets into her head."

"It ain't hair brained. It's called givin' a child a good home," Sully retorted defensively, carrying the wire to the buckboard out front and tossing it in back.

"Well, if you ask me he'll do just fine at that orphanage. If you just gave it a chance."

"Loren, I know what it's like," Sully said passionately, turning to face him. "My ma died when I wasn't much older than him. The reverend in town had no choice but to send me to the nearest orphanage for boys. He didn't even come with me. He just put me on the stage."

"Sully, I didn't know you spent time in an orphanage," Loren murmured.

"I ran away a few days later. But I was there long enough." He swallowed hard. "I just wish somebody like Michaela had found it in her heart to want me. I don't want him to go through what I went through."

Loren rested one hand on the back of the wagon, moved by Sully's revelation.

"I know I haven't took to him like Michaela has, at least not yet," Sully went on ardently. "It's gonna take some time. But I care about him just as much as my flesh and blood." He took a deep breath, composing himself. "That bein' said, Michaela and me would appreciate it if ya don't use the word half breed around us or the boy. He ain't a half breed. He's our son."

Loren blinked a few times. "Sure, Sully. Anything you say."

Sully climbed up into the wagon, taking the reins. "Could you put that wire on our account?"

Loren nodded, speechless.

"Thanks, Loren," Sully replied quietly, giving the reins a flick.

& & &

Red Eagle trailed behind Sully as he poured a sack of feed into Flash's trough.

"Can I help, Sully?" he asked for the second time.

Sully walked quickly out of the stall and into Buck's stall. "I'm almost done. Why don't you go ask Dr. Mike if you can help her?"

"Dr. Mike's doing haircuts," he explained.

"Well, go wait your turn."

"You gonna let her cut on your hair, Sully? Does she really know what she's doing?"

Sully briefly smiled, grabbing a rake and spreading around some fresh hay. "I'll let her cut a little. But that's all."

"I can help rake," the little boy offered. "I'm really good at it."

"Red Eagle, go see what Dr. Mike's doin'."

Red Eagle pointed at the medicine bag around his chest. "Is that something the Cheyenne gave you?"

Sully slowly put aside the rake and touched the bag. "…Yeah. It's a medicine bag. Cloud Dancin' gave it to me after I completed a vision quest. That's when a man goes off by himself to think."

Red Eagle reached his fingers up and fingered the bag reverently. "What'd you think about?"

"Lots of things. See I…I was married before I met Dr. Mike. But my wife and baby, they passed on. I had to get away after that."

"What was your baby's name?"

"…Hanna," Sully whispered.

"Then you had two babies die?"

Sully swallowed hard. "Yep."

"Oh, I hope this medicine bag helps you feel better," Red Eagle murmured, squeezing the medicine bag.

"It's called vecee'seo," Sully said, slowly squatting down to his level.

"Vecee'seo," Red Eagle repeated flawlessly.

"That's good. Real good," Sully said, briefly caressing his head.

"Sully, could I grow my hair long like yours?" Red Eagle asked, gazing at him in admiration. "Like the Indians?"

Sully smiled proudly. "Yeah. Yeah, sure you can. Come on, let's go get somethin' cold to drink inside."

They walked out of the barn toward the porch where Michaela was snipping away at Byron's hair while he sat in a chair impatiently.

She smiled at the two as they approached. "Red Eagle, you're next. Then you, Sully."

"That's all right, Dr. Mike. I'm not going. I'm gonna grow my hair out. Like Sully," Red Eagle replied.

"Hey, no fair. I want long hair," Byron spoke up.

"You're all getting haircuts," Michaela said. "You all need it badly."

"But I don't want one, Dr. Mike," Red Eagle said timidly. "I want to grow it."

Michaela backed up, glancing at Sully. He cleared his throat, gesturing inside. Michaela followed him and closed the door after them.

"What's this about?" she asked.

"He said he wants hair like me," he said, shrugging.

"Oh, that's sweet. But that's not what I want."

He smiled suggestively. "You like my hair. I know ya do."

She blushed, timidly biting her lip. "Well, yes. I suppose. But that's different."

He couldn't resist leaning forward and giving her a soft kiss. "How come?"

She sighed. "Sully, just tell him to sit in the chair and hold still while I cut his hair."

He stepped back and folded his arms. "The thing is….I already told him he could. I didn't think ya would mind."

"Sully, it's not that I mind myself. I'm only thinking of his best interest. He's already made to feel like an outsider in town. If he starts growing his hair and looking unconventional, things are only going to be worse for him."

"Things can't get much worse, Michaela," he murmured, caressing her arm. "Michaela, let's let him grow it out. Just a few inches or so. Maybe it'll help him feel more like he belongs to the Indians. At least part of him."

"You really think this is the right thing to do?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know what to do. But you saw how badly he wants to grow it."

"He wants to be like you is what he wants. He looks up to you just as much as Byron and Katie do," she said. She sighed. "All right. I suppose it's all right. For the time being at least."

& & &

Katie, Byron and Red Eagle eagerly stood at the kitchen table as Michaela assembled all the ingredients they would need on the table. Sully quietly read the Gazette at the other end of the table, letting Michaela take charge.

"You measure three cups of flour," Michaela instructed Byron, handing him a large bowl. "Red Eagle, you measure the cinnamon. One teaspoon." She handed him a measuring spoon and the tin of cinnamon.

"I'll crack the egg," Katie said, picking up a brown egg from out of the basket.

"Slowly, Katie," Michaela instructed. "We don't want shells."

Katie carefully cracked the egg and then picked up a wooden spoon and began stirring the dry ingredients.

"I like baking things," Byron remarked. "Maybe I'll be a cook like Miss Grace when I grow up."

"I want to be a cook, too," Katie said. "And a doctor like Mama."

"And I want to be a builder and build things like Papa when I'm bigger," Byron added.

Sully shared a smile with Michaela.

"What do you want to be when you grow up, Red Eagle?" Byron asked curiously.

Red Eagle bit his lip, adding the cinnamon to the bowl. "I don't know."

"How about a doctor?" Katie suggested. "Or a teacher like your mama. Boys can be teachers, too, right Mama?"

"Certainly they can," Michaela replied.

"Or you could work in a bank since you're so good at adding," Byron said.

He bent his head. "I guess I'd like to do adding. But I can't anyways so it doesn't matter."

Byron wrinkled his brow. "Yes you can. What do you mean?"

"I'm Indian," he whispered. "I've never seen an Indian do white people's jobs. I don't think we're allowed."

Katie looked at Michaela sadly. "Is it true, Mama? Indians can't be those things?"

Michaela walked to Red Eagle and put her arm around him. "When I was your age I already knew I wanted to be a doctor like my father. But everyone except him told me girls weren't allowed to do that. But I wanted it so badly I refused to give up." She squeezed Katie's shoulder. "It's not easy to be born an Indian or a girl. Unfortunately you may have to work harder and longer for your dreams than other people will. But if you want it badly enough, there's nothing you can't do."

"Things are changing," Sully spoke up quietly. "There were only a few woman doctors when your ma went to college. Now there's a lot more."

"Your papa's right," Michaela said. "I have to hope someday it won't matter if you're Indian or a woman. You must go after your dreams in the hope that day will come in your lifetime." She gave Red Eagle's head a gentle kiss. "My father believed in me and that made all the difference. I believe in you, too, Red Eagle. I believe in all of you."

He smiled softly, reassured. "Thanks, Dr. Mike."

"Can we finish the cookies now?" Byron spoke up impatiently.

Michaela laughed. "All right, yes."

"I want to put chocolate in them!" Byron said.

"You can't put chocolate in. They're ginger snaps!" Katie exclaimed.

"I want to anyway," he retorted.

Red Eagle giggled. "Éhe'konahe!"

Sully laughed, putting down the Gazette. "Náhe vésené henôtse," he replied.

Michaela looked at Red Eagle and then Sully, surprised. "Did he just say something to you in Cheyenne?"

"I only have to tell him the word once and he knows it," Sully explained. "And he pronounces 'em real good, too."

"That's good, Red Eagle. I think you have an ear for languages," Michaela said.

"He said Byron's crazy," Sully said wryly.

Byron giggled. "He did? I am not!"

Everyone laughed and Michaela hugged Byron to her.

& & &

Michaela hurried down the clinic stairs and opened the door to the main room. She wore an apron and had rolled up her sleeves. Wisps of hair were coming loose from her bun and a fine sheen of perspiration marked her brow.

"I'm sorry about all this, sweetheart," she said, quickly crossing the room and grabbing a clean basin and a stack of towels. "Are you all right? Are you drawing?"

Red Eagle was sitting in her desk chair, hugging his legs to his chest as he looked up at the ceiling fearfully. He had tried to draw for a few minutes with a tablet and pens Michaela had hastily put in front of him a few hours before, but was too distracted by all the commotion above him. "Why's she crying like that? She's gonna die?"

"No, she's all right. These things just tend to take a long time, that's all. First babies especially." She put down the basin and walked to him, squeezing his shoulder.

The patient upstairs let out a piercing screech. Red Eagle immediately covered his ears with his hands, whimpering. "She's gonna die," he whispered sadly.

Sully suddenly opened the door. "Ready for lunch?" he called.

Michaela added a bottle of carbolic acid to the basin, looking at him with relief. "Thank goodness you're here. I need you to take Red Eagle right away."

"What? Why?" he replied, glancing at the distraught little boy.

She walked to her cabinet and found her stirrups. "Mrs. Wright is upstairs. She's been in labor all morning. I had to make Red Eagle sit down here by himself the entire time."

Sully sighed impatiently, stepping inside and closing the door. "Michaela, I gotta be up on the barn roof this afternoon replace those rottin' boards. You know I was gonna work on that today. I can't be lookin' after him."

"You're going to have to," she replied, squatting down by her table and attaching one of the stirrups to the end. "I'm about to bring her down here for the delivery. I certainly can't have a seven-year-old little boy in the room."

"So he can wait outside. He'll be fine."

"Sully, look at him," she replied, attaching the other stirrup. "This is frightening him. He thinks she's dying and I don't have time to explain any of this to him right now."

He stepped closer to her, lowering his voice. "I'm never gonna finish that roof with him underfoot."

She looked back at him, irritated. "Sully, I always look after him. I bring him to the clinic every day. I take him along wherever I go. I've never asked you to watch him. Just this once can't you please help me with him?"

Mrs. Wright let out another long scream, rattling the walls. Red Eagle covered his ears tighter and curled up in Michaela's chair, whimpering again.

"Sully, take him out of here. Please," she said firmly, tucking the basin under her arm and heading back up the stairs.

"Michaela-" Sully called, but she was already gone.

He folded his arms and watched Red Eagle for a moment. Red Eagle looked back at him shyly.

"All right, come on," Sully said with a sigh, opening the door.

Red Eagle immediately got up and ran to him, immensely relieved. "I won't get in the way, Sully. I promise."

Sully walked outside briskly and lifted him up onto the wagon seat. "You're gonna have to stay inside and play by yourself. I got work to do."

"I can help you," Red Eagle said.

He gathered the reins. "No ya can't. I can't have ya up on the roof."

"Oh," Red Eagle replied, disappointed. "Sully, is that lady gonna be all right? I don't want her to die."

Sully glanced at the clinic. "She'll be just fine. She ain't gonna die."

"I didn't like that," he admitted. "She was loud. I got scared."

"Don't worry about it. Dr. Mike was even louder than that when Katie was born."

"She was?!" he exclaimed, unable to imagine it.

"Yep. I was pretty scared myself. But everything turned out just fine."

His eyes widened with surprise. "But you're not scared of anything! You got scared?"

He chuckled. "Course I was. Even adults get scared sometimes. Nothin' wrong with that."

"I'm glad you picked me up," Red Eagle said, briefly touching Sully's arm.

Sully couldn't help but soften a little. He slapped the reins. "All right, let's head home."

& & &

Sully took a big bite of his chicken sandwich as he placed a plate with another sandwich in front of Red Eagle. He took another bite as he grabbed the pitcher and poured him a tall glass of milk. Red Eagle rested his chin on his hands and stared at the sandwich reluctantly.

Sully swallowed another bite. "What's wrong? Eat."

"Nothing. It's just Dr. Mike always cuts it in half," he whispered.

Sully quickly grabbed a knife out of the drawer and sliced the sandwich in half. "Need anything else?" he asked quietly. He reached one hand up and squinted his eyes, rubbing them hard with his thumb and forefinger.

Red Eagle glanced at him uncomfortably. He had heard every word of Michaela and Sully's argument. He was well aware Sully wasn't happy about being saddled with him, and he desperately wanted to please him. "No. I'm good. Thank you."

"Good," Sully replied, finishing off his sandwich and walking to the door. "I'll be outside workin'. Stay here."

"Bye, Sully," Red Eagle called fleetingly, picking up his sandwich and taking a small bite.

& & &

Red Eagle sat in the wingback chair and read one of Byron and Katie's storybooks to himself. He closed it with a sigh. It was getting late, and Michaela still wasn't home. He was still worried her patient was going to die, but tried to remember Sully had told him she would be fine. Sully seemed to know everything about everything, and whatever he said Red Eagle accepted without question. If Sully said the woman would be fine, then she would be fine. Reassured, he stood and put the book on the chair, walking to the door and opening it.

He shielded his eyes from the hot sun and looked up at the roof. Sully had nailed several new boards to the roof, but he was nowhere in sight.

"Sully?" Red Eagle called. He stepped down the stairs and walked to the barn. He finally spotted Sully near the ladder, hunched over a bucket of water and rinsing the sweat from his face with one hand.

"Hey, Sully? Sorry to bother you but could I have another glass of milk?"

Sully didn't reply. He closed his eyes and slowly submerged his entire head in the water, holding it under for several seconds. At last he brought it up, gasping for breath as water dripped down his face and hair and dampened his shirt.

Red Eagle watched him a long moment, perplexed. "Hey, Sully? Could I have some milk?" he repeated.

Sully squinted his eyes, shielding them from the sun. He slowly turned and walked back to the house. Red Eagle scurried to keep up with him.

"Dr. Mike's not back yet. Maybe we better start cooking supper. Could you teach me some more Cheyenne words, Sully?" he asked persistently.

"Later," Sully murmured, climbing the porch stairs tiredly and walking inside.

"What's wrong?" Red Eagle whispered, concerned.

"Nothin'. Go read your book," Sully told him, heading toward the staircase and disappearing upstairs.

Red Eagle walked back to the chair obediently and reluctantly picked up the book. He read it for several minutes, preoccupied with how strangely Sully had behaved. He feared Sully was eve

n more angry about having to look after him today than he had first thought. He decided to go upstairs to talk to him and make amends.

Red Eagle put the book down and scurried up the stairs. He knocked lightly on the bedroom door.

"Sully? Sully?"

He knocked a little harder. Then he knocked with both hands as hard as he could. "Sully, are you all right?"

"Stop knockin'," Sully called weakly.

Red Eagle opened the door wide, flooding the room with light. Sully was on his back in bed, closing his eyes and holding his head. He was bathed in sweat and breathing deeply. The curtains were drawn tightly closed.

Sully groaned and covered his eyes with his hands. "Close the door. The light, it hurts my eyes."

Shocked to see Sully so debilitated, Red Eagle held onto the doorknob and stared. "Sully…I was thinking I could help you on the roof. I know how to use a hammer. I won't fall. I don't mean to be underfoot."

"Red Eagle, close the door!" Sully shouted.

"…I'm sorry," Red Eagle whispered, quickly shutting the door and walking back down the stairs dejectedly.

to be continued...Please leave reviews!


	12. Chapter 12

-1Chapter Twelve

Michaela opened the front door just as Red Eagle came downstairs. She put her medical bag on the table and hung up her jacket.

"Red Eagle? Did you have a good time with Sully?" she asked. Her hair was a mess and she looked exhausted, but Michaela was always in a good mood after a successful day at the clinic.

He slowly walked to the table and leaned on it. "Did your patient die?"

"Of course not. She had a healthy baby girl. See, I told you she'd be fine."

He looked up at her with sad, tearful eyes.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry that upset you." She walked to him and drew him to her side. "I know it can sound frightening but it doesn't necessarily mean anything is wrong. Is there anything you want to ask me? We can sit down and talk about what happens when a woman has a baby if you'd like." She grinned. "But after I get something to eat and a hot bath!"

"Sully's upstairs," he whispered. "Something's the matter with him."

She glanced at the stairs, perplexed. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know. He yelled at me to close the door. He said the light hurt his eyes."

Michaela instantly feared Sully was having a megrim. Fortunately his megrims had been few and far between over the years, but when they did strike, they all but crippled him. He would retreat to their bedroom, wanting total darkness and quiet. Michaela always gave him plenty of willow bark tea and had tried a variety of tonics, but nothing seemed to help. They simply had to wait them out. It was always so disconcerting to see such a strong man who was always so in control be so suddenly incapacitated. She dreaded the megrims, and continued to hold out hope he would eventually stop getting them.

"Stay here," she said, grabbing her bag and hurrying up the stairs.

She carefully opened the door and quickly shut it behind her. Sully groaned at the light and turned on his side away from the door.

Michaela sat on the bed and gently caressed his shoulder. "What is it, Sully? A headache?"

He nodded. "It's throbbin'. It's all on one side."

"Which side?"

"My left."

"How long have you been like this?" she asked, crossing the room and pouring water into the basin.

"I don't know. Couple hours."

She rejoined him at the bed with the basin and unbuttoned his damp shirt, helping him out of it. "Oh, Sully. You're soaked." She dipped a cloth in the basin and gently bathed his perspiring chest while she held his hand with her free hand. "Just try to relax. It'll pass."

He nodded slowly and squeezed her hand.

"Mrs. Wright is just fine. It's a baby girl." She laid the cloth across his forehead. "Is this helping at all?"

He swallowed. "Yeah. Just, just try to whisper, all right?"

"I'm sorry," she said as quietly as she could. She knelt down and kissed his cheek lovingly. "I'm here, Sully. You'll be all right."

"Ya must be tired," he said, squinting up at her. "Probably just wanted to come home and get some sleep."

She shrugged. "I might as well stay on my feet a little longer."

He smiled softly and gently kissed her hand, grateful she was with him.

& & &

Michaela was sitting up in bed and sleeping lightly, still in her clothes and one arm wrapped securely around Sully's chest. He was resting his head in her lap, glad to have her so close to attend to all his needs. He hadn't slept at all, but he was trying to be as still as possible and let Michaela doze for a little while. He felt guilty she had been helping a woman in hard labor all day only to come home to have to stay up half the night with him, but there was nothing he could do about it. His head was still pounding intensely and his throat was unbearably parched. He carefully reached for the glass of water on the night table and brought it to his dry lips.

His coordination was weakened, however, and he spilled water down his chin and into Michaela's lap.

"I'm sorry," he murmured with frustration.

Michaela instantly roused and took the glass from him. "Shh, let me hold it. I have it."

He let his hand drop and gratefully took several long gulps of the cool water as she held the glass and smoothed back his damp hair.

"It's a bad one, Michaela," he whispered, inhaling as he brought one hand up to his brow and held it there.

"I know," she said sympathetically, placing the glass back on the night table. "Are you cold? You're shivering." She drew the blankets up around his bare chest.

"Michaela, why's this happenin'?"

"I don't know," she said helplessly. "I don't know why this happens to you." She crouched down and kissed his hair. "Shh, just try to close your eyes. Rest."

& & &

Michaela spooned warm broth from the pot on the stove into a bowl. The children were quietly eating breakfast and Byron and Katie were studying their spellers for their test in the morning.

"Brian, could you take the children to school?" Michaela asked. "And then I want you to stop by Andrew's and ask him if he'll check in on Mrs. Wright and the baby today for me."

"Sure, Ma," he said agreeably, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"Red Eagle, I'm afraid you'll have to stay down here and play by yourself this morning," Michaela said.

"Can't I sit with Sully?" Red Eagle asked hopefully.

She placed the bowl on a tray and found a spoon in the drawer. "Sully needs lots of peace and quiet when he gets a bad headache. It's better to stay out of the way."

"I won't make a sound," he vowed.

"Sit down here, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered.

"It's all right, Red Eagle," Katie spoke up, sensing his upset. "Papa'll feel better soon."

"We always leave him alone when his head hurts," Byron explained. "He wants to be left alone. Doesn't mean he's mad at us."

"Ya can't take it personal," Brian added. "He'll be better in no time."

Red Eagle sighed, folding his arms. He couldn't understand why Sully wouldn't want him to at least sit with him. He was beginning to feel like Sully didn't want him around at all.

"Have a good day at school," Michaela said. "I'll try to pick you up if Papa's doing better by then." She headed up the stairs with the tray and quickly opened the door, slipping inside and shutting it just as quickly.

Sully was sitting up in bed, looking much better. She put the tray on the end of the bed and grabbed the bowl and the spoon.

"Here, I brought you some nice warm broth." She held the spoon to his lips.

"I ain't helpless. I can feed myself," he said.

"I don't want you spilling on my good sheets," she said wryly. "Now open."

He reluctantly allowed her to feed him the broth. It tasted good to his dry throat. One thing Michaela was wonderful at was making sweet tasting broth that was gentle on the stomach. And he had to admit it was nice to just lay back and let her take care of him.

"Pain's gone," he told her. "I'm just feelin' real weak, real tired."

She blew on another spoonful of broth and held it to is lips. "You just rest today. I'm staying home. I may rest with you too if you don't mind."

"I'd like that," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Sully, Matthew came by the other day to tell me the circuit judge is going to be in town tomorrow."

He slowly met her eyes, not replying.

She fed him some more broth. "I know the timing's not very good with you just having this megrim, but I can fill out the paperwork myself and bring him to court tomorrow. You can stay here. You only need to sign it."

He folded his arms. "Don't know if that's such a good idea."

"But the judge doesn't get into town very often. Who knows when he'll be here again. It could be months." She held another spoonful of broth to his lips.

"I just don't think we should be rushin' somethin' as serious as this."

"Rushing? He's been staying with us for two months now, ever since Hattie died. I'd hardly call that rushing."

"Michaela, that ain't a long time. This ain't somethin' to take lightly. Once we sign those adoption papers there's no turning back."

She lowered the bowl, disappointment all across her face. "But I want to adopt him. I want him to be my son in the law's eyes. I thought you did, too."

He looked away. "Just wanna be sure it's gonna work, that's all."

Tears appeared in her eyes. "I don't understand."

"Michaela, it's just paperwork," he said impatiently. "It ain't gonna change anythin'."

"Yes it will. This isn't so much for me. It's for him. I want him to know that we're his family now, for good. That he's a part of us. That he'll never be alone again. He needs this, Sully."

"I ain't so sure he's fittin' in with this family," he muttered.

"What are you talking about?" she exclaimed. "Sully, are you still upset about the other day? I'm sorry I interrupted your plans to fix the roof, but he's your child, too. You have to take some responsibility, too."

"This was your idea, remember?" he retorted. "You're the one who said we could make this work. You're the one who said don't worry, ya'd figure out all of this. Next thing I know I'm wastin' my days worryin' what to do about him cause you say you can't have him at the clinic. I never been so behind with what needs to be done around here."

"Don't exaggerate," she replied. "It was one time."

"Admit it, Michaela. Havin' him at the clinic is a bad idea. And havin' him follow me around all day while I try to get things done is an even worse idea."

"Do we have a choice? If he were just in school we wouldn't have to worry so much over what he's going to do all day every day."

"Well, he ain't allowed," he replied. "…I ain't signin' those adoption papers, Michaela. Not yet. We gotta give this more time."

"How much more time?" she asked plaintively.

"I don't know," he murmured.

"Let me get you some more broth." She abruptly rose and exited the room, shutting the door and leaning against it. She was fooling herself to think Sully loved Red Eagle like she did. Sully was usually kind to the little boy, but had never been the adoring father to him he always was to Katie and Byron. What had happened with Cloud Dancing had only strained his already uncertain relationship with the boy. She swiped at her tears, feeling very alone in the raising of their new child.

& & &

Michaela pulled the lamp closer to Byron's arithmetic as the little boy worked on his assignment, face set in a firm scowl.

"Try that one again. It's wrong," Michaela said with a sigh.

Impatiently, he grabbed his eraser and rubbed it on the page violently. Sully looked up from his book at the opposite end of the table, watching the little boy inquiringly.

"Byron, be gentle. You can't hand in a ripped paper to Miss Teresa," Michaela scolded.

"I don't care," he muttered, grabbing his pencil again and pressing down hard as he wrote.

"You should have been done with this hours ago. I want you to stop pouting and focus on your work. It's past your bedtime already."

"I don't want you looking," Byron said stubbornly, covering his paper with his free hand. "Leave me alone."

"Hey, watch how you talk to your ma," Sully spoke up firmly. "Arithmetic would be a lot harder for ya if she didn't help ya as much as she does."

Byron put his pencil down crossly. "It's not fair," he said, tears threatening. "Red Eagle doesn't have to go to school. Red Eagle doesn't get homework."

Sully slowly put down his book. "Red Eagle can't go to school, you know that. Folks don't want him there."

"I wish I was a half breed," he said, resting his chin on one hand.

"What'd I tell ya about usin' that word?" Sully said firmly.

"Byron, you don't really mean that," Michaela said. "Do you know how lucky you are to be able to go to school? You'll never have to fight to do something because some people don't like the color of your skin."

"I still wish I was," he retorted. "Red Eagle gets to grow his hair out. How come you let him and not me? I want long hair like Papa."

Michaela smoothed back his hair. "Sweetheart, we all need to be patient with Red Eagle. He never knew his papa and just lost his mama. He doesn't have any brothers or sisters or any friends, besides us. Think how sad that would make you feel."

He bent his head, digesting her words.

"If growing his hair out helps him feel better then we'll let him do that." She bit her lip. "When you get a little older and if you still want to do the same, I'll seriously consider it."

He looked up hopefully. "You will?"

"I promise," she said, kissing his brow. "All right, go up to bed now. I'll wake you up early and we'll finish your homework."

Byron hugged her. "Thanks, Mama. Night night."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

Byron got up and walked to Sully, hugging him just as tightly.

"Night, son. I love ya," Sully murmured, rubbing his back.

Michaela watched him go upstairs, stacking together his pencil, tablet and arithmetic primer.

"He's tired," she remarked.

"Don't excuse the way he was talkin' to ya," Sully replied.

"He has a point," Michaela admitted. "It can't feel very fair that he has to go to school when Red Eagle doesn't."

"Don't see what ya can do about it except try talkin' to Teresa again."

"I was going to, eventually. I just wasn't sure if we should drag him through a fight like that when he's just moved in with us and is getting used to us. Not to mention his mother dying. I wanted to wait at least a few months before subjecting him to anything like that."

"It's gonna be a fight, I promise ya that," he replied. "Teresa gets the council involved and they vote against it, you're outta luck."

"I know," she murmured pensively. "Sully, I was thinking, what if we sent him to the Freedmen school?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Shantytown? But he's Indian, not black."

"I know he may not fit in there either, but at least he would be learning something. I think I could persuade Grace to take him in. Sully, he hates coming to the clinic, even though he tries to hide it. And I don't blame him. A child his age should be in school, not watching me update medical charts and stitch up cuts all day. And I feel awful about how upset he was over Mrs. Wright. Sully, this would only be for a short time, until we can figure out how to integrate him at the school in town."

He nodded. "I s'pose it can't hurt to ask Grace. You're right, boy his age oughta be in school."

& & &

"The Freedmen school's for the colored children, Dr. Mike," Grace said as she stirred a large pot of chicken soup.

"Yes I realize that," Michaela replied. "But he's not welcome at our school. Sully and I were hoping there would be some way you could allow him to learn at your school, at least for the time being."

"Well, it's not that I don't think he should get a chance to learn. Every child deserves that. But the government only gives us a little money every year. It don't seem right a child who ain't even colored could take advantage of that."

She folded her hands. "All right, that makes sense. I'll buy his supplies for him. I'll buy anything you say he needs. He won't take away from your government funding."

Grace closed the lid on the pot and wiped her hands with a towel. "It ain't just the supplies. Dr. Mike, I don't have very much time with those children. Every minute I spend helping him is time taken away from the colored children."

"Grace, you have to sympathize with where he's coming from. He's not accepted in town, and Cloud Dancing specifically told us not to bring him on the Reservation. Now you're saying he won't be accepted in Shantytown either. Grace, there's no school for part Indians."

Grace put down the towel, relenting. "All right. All right, I'll give him a try. But he gives me any trouble…"

"He won't. I promise," she said, grasping her hand and smiling. "Oh, thank you, Grace. You don't know how much this means to us."

"Dr. Mike, I can't promise those colored children are gonna want anything to do with him. He ain't one of us."

"That's all right. Just do your best."

& & &

Red Eagle timidly looked back at the dozen schoolchildren from Shantytown staring at him distrustfully.

"Children, this is Mark Randolph….What do you say?" Grace said, putting her hands on the little boy's shoulders. Michaela stood at Red Eagle's side and held his hand.

"Mornin', Mark," the children mumbled.

"I have to get to the clinic. Have a good first day," Michaela whispered.

Red Eagle suddenly hugged her waist tightly. "Come back to get me later, Dr. Mike."

"Of course I will. As soon as school lets out. Don't worry."

Red Eagle hugged her a moment longer as a few older children giggled.

"Mark, you can take a seat in the front row," Grace said. She smiled briefly at Michaela. "We'll be fine."

Michaela nodded, quickly heading back to her wagon and leaving before Red Eagle could get a chance to change his mind about going to school.

"Get out your readers and work on chapter three silently," Grace said, putting on her spectacles and sitting at her desk. She looked through some papers as the children obediently opened their books and took out their slates and slate pencils.

Red Eagle opened the brand new reader Michaela had sent him to school with and began reading, head lowered timidly.

"Is that doctor lady your ma?" the little girl sitting next to him whispered, horrified.

"She's my new ma," Red Eagle whispered back. "My real ma passed on."

"What are you anyway? You sure ain't colored," another little boy spoke up.

Red Eagle flipped a page, ignoring him.

"Well, what are you?" he persisted. "If you ain't colored you can't be here."

"Yeah, this is our school," another boy said defensively.

"You ain't a Greaser, are you?" spoke up a third. "My pappy hates Greasers. One of them shot him once in El Paso, near killed him."

"I'm not Mexican," Red Eagle said angrily. "My pa was a Crow Indian scout."

"Injun!" the first little boy said. "Well, go on over to the Injun school then. Get out of our school."

"But I'm just part," Red Eagle said. "They won't let me."

"We don't allow half breeds either," he replied. "Only colored folk."

Grace tapped her ruler firmly on her desk. "William! Jerome! I thought I said to read silently!"

"Yes, Miss Grace," they both said, quieting and opening their readers.

& & &

Byron stared at the difficult arithmetic problem the teacher had assigned the younger children. Everyone in the schoolhouse was working quietly on their mathematics as Teresa wrote on the blackboard. Byron took off his spectacles and polished them with his shirt, hoping that might make a difference. He put them back on and made another feeble attempt to solve it, but he quickly lost interest in the problem when he became stuck. He pressed the end of his pencil to his chin and looked out the window, daydreaming about going fishing or playing baseball or checkers or jacks with Red Eagle once they all got home from school. He looked back at his paper and absently drew a little teepee below the arithmetic problem.

Tommy, the little boy who sat next to him, had finished the assignment several minutes before and now watched Byron draw. He giggled quietly. "What's that? A house for that half breed?"

Byron gave him a quick glance. "Don't call him that. It's not nice."

"I can call him whatever I want. Half breed, half breed," Tommy taunted.

"Stop," Byron protested, irritated.

"My pa said I can't play with you anymore," Tommy replied.

Byron frowned, hurt. "Why?"

"Why do you think? Because you're always with that Injun bastard. But I don't care cause I never liked you anyways."

Byron bent his head and folded his arms sadly. He wanted to go home where Red Eagle always wanted to play with him and never made fun of him.

Teresa turned around and tapped her ruler on the desk. "Time's up. Bring your papers forward and then you are dismissed."

The children walked up to the front and one by one handed her their papers.

Byron folded his at his desk, hoping Teresa wouldn't see it was incomplete, and trudged up to the front last. He handed it to the teacher with an innocent smile and spun around to leave.

"Byron, wait. What's this?" Teresa demanded, opening the paper.

Byron slowly turned back around. "It's my pluses and minuses."

"But why isn't it finished? And what's this, you've been drawing on it instead?"

He shrugged. "I don't wanna do it."

Teresa sighed. "Don't want to do it. Byron Sully, you know that's unacceptable in my classroom. Please return to your seat and finish it. I will wait."

Byron sighed. "I can't do it, Miss Teresa. It's too hard."

Teresa looked down at him patiently. "All right, the two of us will sit together and go over the problems one by one as long as it takes. Come." She grabbed a pencil off her desk.

He shook his head. "No, I can't. Please can I go home now?"

"Byron, you've fallen very behind. You were behind even before you and Katie missed so much school. I have not demanded very much of you the past few months. I've been giving you lots of extra help, have I not? I have given you many, many chances to practice, have I not?"

"Yes, ma'am," Byron admitted in a whisper. "But I still can't do it."

She sighed and circled her desk, sitting down. "Wait here. I'm afraid I must send you home with a note for your mother."

Byron's eyes widened with dread.

Teresa glanced at him as she dipped her pen into the inkwell and began writing on a tablet in stern slanted script. "I'm afraid you give me no choice."

& & &

Michaela pressed the bell of her stethoscope to Faye's belly and listened intently as she looked at her pocket watch. The heartbeat was perfect, the baby was growing at a normal pace, and everything about the young woman's pregnancy was moving along without a hitch.

Michaela knew she should be happy for her friend, but she found herself despondent as she thought about her own baby. It wasn't too long ago she was lying on the same examination table twenty-two weeks into her pregnancy, Sully holding her hand nervously as Andrew tried to find Jack's heartbeat. It seemed to take forever, and she remembered feeling impatient with Andrew's inexperience, as much as she trusted him. Michaela had been happy and excited when she was pregnant with Katie and Byron, but with Jack she was beyond thrilled. They had wanted another baby so badly, but had never counted on it really happening, and once it did she had such a nagging, horrible feeling something might go wrong during the pregnancy or birth. But she and Jack were just fine, and she and Sully had both cried with relief and sheer happiness when Andrew finally found it and they heard their baby's heartbeat for the first time.

Faye was watching Michaela timidly. "Everything all right? His heart all right?" she asked.

Michaela placed the stethoscope in the young woman's ears. "Here, listen for yourself."

Faye instantly smiled. "Oh, land sakes. That's my baby?"

Michaela smiled softly. "That's your baby."

"Oh, ain't that a good sound." She listened for a long moment and then slowly lowered the stethoscope with a happy sigh.

Michaela helped her sit up and grabbed her chart, making a few notes. "Everything looks fine to me. Just keep doing what you're doing. Can you come back next month?"

Faye folded and unfolded her hands uncomfortably. "Dr. Mike, there's something I wanna tell you."

Michaela slowly lowered the chart. "Yes?"

"Listen, Kirk and me been talkin.' If we have a boy, well, we'd like to name him Jack. In his memory."

Taken aback, Michaela was speechless. "Oh, Faye, you don't have to," she stammered.

"No, we want to. Sides, we really like how it sounds. Jack Davis. Ain't that nice? Dr. Mike, that's all right with you, ain't it?"

Michaela suddenly wasn't sure if she wanted them to do that, but she wasn't going to say anything to Faye. "Yes, it's fine," she said uncertainly.

Faye put on her bonnet and tied the strings. "Could we owe you for this appointment? Kirk's got a construction job comin' up in Pueblo, but it ain't for another two weeks."

"Of course, that's fine," Michaela said, leading her to the door and opening it. "Take care. Don't overdo it."

"Thank you, Dr. Mike." Sully pulled the wagon up to the clinic with the children and Faye waved to them as she walked to her buggy. "Afternoon, Sully."

"Hey, Faye," he said with a smile as the children waved back.

"Faye, you're gettin' big!" Byron shouted.

Faye laughed and blew him a kiss as Sully jumped down from the wagon and entered the clinic.

"How's Faye doin'? Good I hope," he asked, folding his arms.

Michaela unfastened the stirrups from the examination table speedily. "Yes, fine."

"I just got the kids from school. Ya ready to head over to Shantytown and get Red Eagle?"

"Just let me clean up," she replied, grabbing a bottle of carbolic acid and filling a shallow basin with it.

He eyed her for a moment. Something was off, but he couldn't pinpoint it. "Ya have a good day?"

"Yes," she replied quietly, not elaborating.

Surprised at her short answers, he wrinkled his brow. "Can I help?"

"No." She dipped her speculum into the carbolic acid and then dried it with a fresh towel.

He cleared his throat, reaching into his pocket for a small piece of paper. "Uh, Miss Teresa sent Byron home with a note."

She glanced at him briefly. "Oh? Now what?"

He opened up the crumpled piece of paper. "Says he wouldn't finish his arithmetic for some reason. She's worried about him fallin' too far behind. Says she can't pass him if he does."

"I'm helping him with his arithmetic," she said defensively, pulling off the sheet from the examination table and folding it. "I'd say he's doing much better actually."

"Don't think she'd be sendin' home notes if she didn't think this was a problem."

"What Teresa Slicker thinks and what I think are often very different," she said, shaking her head.

Sully held out the note. "Maybe ya should read it."

"I can't right now. Later," she said, dropping the sheet in her laundry basket.

"She says she could meet with us after school this week. Talk about him. Wants to know if we can do it tomorrow."

"Sully, it's one note. Now she wants to have a meeting? She always overreacts, you know she does." She carried Faye's chart to her filing cabinet and put it away in the top drawer. "Besides, I can't tomorrow. I have a full schedule of patients. She expects me to just drop everything. I work long hours and she needs to respect that. Not that she ever has."

He shrugged, folding up the note and putting it back in his pocket. "Just think we should hear her out is all."

"I can't deal with her right now, Sully. I can't," she said curtly. She wiped down the examination table with a cloth, dried her hands and then reached behind her to untie her apron. "All right, let's go."

& & &

"Jack!" Michaela screamed, desperately trying to dig with her hands. She could hear her baby crying beneath the ground, but she couldn't get to him. Suddenly Michaela awoke, shouting Jack's name and sitting up in bed. She frantically looked for Jack's crib beside the bed, but it was gone, disassembled and brought up to the barn loft weeks ago. And her little boy was gone for good. Tears of realization slipped down her cheeks.

Sully stirred, opening his eyes. "Michaela? What's wrong?"

She slowly looked back at him, panting. "I'm sorry. I was dreaming again."

He put his arm around her. "Come 'ere. Lay down."

She reluctantly got back under the covers and Sully wrapped his arms around her securely. "Ya all right? Catch your breath."

"It was so vivid, Sully," she murmured dejectedly. "Jack was alive, crying for me. We buried him alive."

"Shh, shh," he whispered soothingly.

She pressed one hand to her brow. "I don't know why this keeps happening."

"Three months tomorrow. What do ya say we go visit the marker, clean it off. Maybe plant some flowers?"

"I can't. I can't. Please don't make me go."

"Michaela, ya don't have to do this alone. The both of us will go."

She met his eyes fearfully. "Sully, I don't want to forget him. I'm so frightened I already am."

"We ain't gonna forget him," he vowed.

"You were right, I shouldn't have given all his things to Grace. I keep looking for something that smells like him, and I can't find anything. I gave away everything." Tears fell down her cheeks. "I've forgotten what my baby smelled like."

"No, it was a good idea," he said reassuringly. "Folks in Shantytown really needed those things. You were helpin' 'em out."

"Sully, I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm drowning. Maybe I'm back at the clinic and around town and looking better, but I still feel so lost inside. I still keep having that horrible dream. I don't know how to survive this. Sully, please help me." She held him desperately. "How do we do this? Please."

He pressed her tightly to him, hearing the panic in her voice and feeling the quick beat of her heart. "All right, all right. Just stay calm. I know, we could talk to the Reverend again. I'll get him first thing in the morning," he suggested helplessly.

She shook her head. "He means well, but it won't make a difference. It never has."

He stroked her hair soothingly. "….Your ma still wants to visit."

"No, I don't want her to see me like this," she murmured sorrowfully.

"Michaela, it's your ma. She wants to be here for us. Maybe havin' her around will do some good."

She suddenly chuckled, her tears ceasing. "I can't imagine her face when she finds out we've taken in an Indian boy."

"You ain't told her?" he asked with surprise.

She smiled sheepishly. "Well, not exactly. I was going to. Eventually."

He chuckled and kissed her. "Eventually, huh? So is that a yes? Can I send her a telegram?"

"All right, yes. I suppose it would be nice to see her. Talk to her."

He hugged her again, extremely relieved. "It's gonna be all right. She'll know how to help. It's gonna be all right."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Dorothy drove her buggy up to the homestead, spotting Sully chopping wood nearby.

"Miss Dorothy," he called, tossing a few logs onto a pile of kindling.

"Afternoon, Sully," she called back, getting down from her buggy and walking over to him.

He split a log evenly. "Hope ya don't mind if I keep workin'."

"No, no. Go right ahead," she replied.

"Michaela's ma is gonna come visit. Got a lot to do before she gets here."

"Oh, she is? That's wonderful," she replied. "Well, Grace says you're bringin' that Indian boy to the Freedmen school."

"Yep."

"I'm surprised they're even lettin' him in. He's not a Negro by any means.

"I gotta admit I'd like to see him in school. He ain't got the slightest interest in bein' at the clinic all day. Won't hurt him, but it's better he learn somethin'."

"I suppose that's true," she said. "Oh, Jake wanted to know if you could help the men clear out the church on Friday for the Sweetheart's Dance."

"Sweetheart's Dance? That's here already?"

"Yes, you and Michaela are goin' aren't you?"

"Not sure. Her ma's gonna be here by then and-"

"I think you should take her," Dorothy said with a twinkle in her eye. "And take her mother, too."

"I ain't sure Michaela's up to that," Sully replied.

"You asked her?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Ask her, Sully. Tell you what, I'll come stay with the children so you and Michaela and Mrs. Quinn too can all go. I've been to my share of dances. I can miss one."

He smiled, splitting a log. "Loren ain't gonna be happy about that. Bet he wants to take ya."

She chuckled, waving one hand. "Oh, he'll survive. Well, when's Mrs. Quinn get in?"

"Day after tomorrow," he replied, stacking together the split pieces of wood on the ground.

"How you and Michaela doin'?" she asked softly. "Things goin' good?"

He sighed, tapping the axe into the stump. "Tell ya the truth, it's been a tough couple of weeks. She was doin' all right for awhile. But I think now that things are settlin' down with Red Eagle, we got more time to dwell on what happened." He swallowed. "Still won't visit his grave. And she keeps havin' nightmares about him. Wakes up so upset she can't go back to sleep."

"Oh, Sully. That's terrible. And I imagine when that happens you don't sleep much yourself."

He nodded slowly, bending his head. "Only thing I know to do is send for her ma. She finally let me."

"Well, that'll be good. I'm sure Mrs. Quinn wants to see all of you."

"Yeah, she's been wantin' to come help for awhile."

"In the meantime if there's anything else you need. Supper, help with the children or around the house."

"We're all right. I appreciate ya wantin' to come stay with the kids during the Sweetheart's Dance. I'll ask Michaela what she thinks."

"Well, I think it'll be good for both of you," she said with a smile.

& & &

Sully lifted Michaela down from the wagon as passengers disembarked from the afternoon train and porters unloaded luggage. Michaela spotted Elizabeth pointing out her trunk and hat boxes to one of the porters.

"I see her. She's over there," Michaela said, grasping Sully's hand and quickly crossing the tracks. "Mother!"

Elizabeth turned, letting out a deep sigh. "Michaela….oh, Michaela."

"I'm so glad you're here," Michaela said tearfully.

Elizabeth immediately embraced her in a tight hug and they both fell into tears of relief and delayed grief. Sully stood by, gently laying his hand on Michaela's back in support. It was the first time in awhile she had really let herself cry, and he was relieved to see her finally able to do so.

"Oh, how something like this could happen to my little girl," Elizabeth murmured. "…He was such an angel, wasn't he?"

Michaela nodded, recalling something Red Eagle once said to her. "And now he's with the angels."

Elizabeth gradually stepped back and turned to Sully, hugging him just as compassionately. "I'm so sorry, Sully."

He kissed her cheek in appreciation. "I'm glad you're here, too, Elizabeth. Thanks for comin'."

Elizabeth dabbed at her nose with a lacey handkerchief. "Where are my grandchildren? I can't wait to see them."

"Waitin' at home," Sully explained.

"Why didn't you bring them to the station?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously.

"Well, because there's something we need to talk about first," Michaela said.

"Where's your luggage?" Sully asked. "We'll talk on the way home."

& & &

"Mother, say something," Michaela said nervously.

Bewildered, Elizabeth looked out the road. Michaela was driving and Sully stood behind them.

"I…I suppose I just don't understand," Elizabeth finally murmured.

"What's not to understand? He needed a good home that we could provide," Michaela replied simply.

"But a half breed?! He sticks out like a sore thumb no doubt. Everyone will know he's not your real child. At least with Brian no one would think to question if you're his parents unless they knew."

Michaela slapped the reins. "That's not the point."

"Leave it to you two to jump head first into something like this. Please say you haven't filled out the proper papers."

"Not yet," Sully said.

"Oh, thank goodness for small favors," Elizabeth said. "At least it's not permanent yet."

"We're going to fill the adoption papers out, Mother," Michaela said. "We just haven't gotten around to it."

"Michaela, be reasonable. It's understandable you want this child to replace Jack, may he rest in peace."

"That has nothing to do with it."

"Now I know if I make a large donation to that orphanage your father used to do so much pro bono work at, they could find you a healthy, white baby you could adopt if you must. I'm sure it would only take a few weeks."

"That's not the point either," Michaela said with a sigh.

"We were never lookin' to adopt, Elizabeth," Sully explained. "Red Eagle and us, we just crossed paths by chance."

Michaela smiled timidly. "Besides…Sully and I…we'd still like to have another baby of our own."

"Good gracious, another one? How are you ever going to afford it, what with that Indian boy to look after now, too?" she said critically.

"I don't expect you to approve," Michaela replied. "I'm not asking you to. I only ask that you treat him the same as you would your other grandchildren."

"Michaela, I'm just worried about you," Elizabeth said softly. "You've got to give yourself time to grieve. It's only been a few months. It's a long process."

Michaela swallowed hard. "I know, believe me. But I'd probably still be in bed if it weren't for Red Eagle. And I know I wouldn't be back to working at the clinic, at least not yet. As much as we've helped him, he's helped us more."

"Well, I'm here now," Elizabeth said, squeezing Michaela's knee reassuringly. "I'll do what I can do make this easier on you. And the children."

Michaela smiled softly. "They can't wait to see you."

& & &

Brian, Katie and Byron hurried out to the porch as Michaela pulled the wagon up to the homestead. Red Eagle trailed much slower behind them, lingering shyly at the top of the steps.

"Gran'ma!" Katie shouted excitedly.

Brian padded down the steps and quickly helped Elizabeth down from the wagon. He kissed her. "Hey, Grandma."

Katie and Byron pushed their way between Brian and Elizabeth and hugged her waist tightly.

Overwhelmed, Elizabeth fell to her knees and enveloped the two youngest children in her embrace.

"Oh, you precious, precious dears," she said, kissing each of their heads. "Look how big all of you are! Brian, you're a giant. How tall are you now?"

"Bout six feet," he said shyly.

"And getting taller," Michaela added as Sully helped her down.

"Gran'ma, in school we learned about this thing the Boston Tea Party," Katie said breathlessly, holding Elizabeth's hand. "And some people dressed up like Indians and threw all the tea in the water. And I told everybody my gran'ma lives in Boston and maybe even saw that tea party!"

"Oh, heavens, I'm not that old!" Elizabeth said, laughing.

"Red Eagle's a real Indian. Not dressed up," Byron added. "Come on. Come meet him. He's our new brother."

Byron and Katie dragged Elizabeth up the porch steps to where Red Eagle was standing silently.

"Red Eagle, this is your gran'ma," Byron said. "You can call her Gran'ma. Can't he, Gran'ma?"

Michaela cleared her throat. "Children, let's let Grandma get settled in first before we talk about all this."

"That's all right, we can talk about it now," Byron said.

Too bewildered to say anything, Elizabeth scrutinizing the little boy from head to toe.

Red Eagle flinched under her probing gaze. "I never had a gran'ma before," he whispered.

"Well, I've never had an Indian for a grandson before," Elizabeth replied. "You need a haircut, young man."

"No, ma'am. Dr. Mike said I could grow it," he replied.

Elizabeth looked back at Michaela disapprovingly. Michaela avoided her eyes, clasping her hands in front of her.

"Mama won't let me grow mine yet," Byron added. "Not until I'm bigger. Maybe you could talk to her, Gran'ma."

"What exactly is a gran'ma?" Red Eagle asked, scratching his head.

"What's a gran'ma?!" Byron exclaimed. "Well, it's….it's…."

"She's Mama's mama, silly," Katie explained. "She lives in Boston and writes us all the time and sends us presents and let's us do whatever we want when she visits."

Michaela shared a smile with Sully and Brian as they unloaded Elizabeth's luggage.

"Oh," Red Eagle murmured. "Where's Boston?"

"Very, very far," Elizabeth said as the men carried her luggage inside. "I must admit I'm quite exhausted from the trip. I believe I'd like to rest before dinner."

Michaela ascended the steps and took Elizabeth's arm. "I'll get you settled in Katie's room. Come on."

& & &

"How are you sleeping?" Elizabeth asked worriedly.

"Do I look that bad?" Michaela replied quietly, removing a few pairs of boots from Elizabeth's trunk and putting them in Katie's wardrobe.

"No, quite honestly you look much better than I thought," Elizabeth replied, laying her brush and other toiletries on top of the bureau. "But you're too thin, Michaela. I don't suppose you're eating very properly."

"I'm trying to," she replied, returning to the trunk. "Sully's been wonderful about seeing to all my needs. He's never let me skip meals even if I wanted to."

"The loss of a child, I can't imagine how hard that must be on a marriage," Elizabeth remarked.

"It's been….difficult," Michaela admitted, taking a few more smaller items out of the trunk and placing them on the bed. "But he's so supportive, so loving. So patient. We just haven't had very much time alone, we've been so busy lately."

"And your mourning clothes? Where pray tell are those? Or don't they wear such things out West."

"They're packed away. They were only making everyone feel worse," Michaela explained.

Elizabeth folded a camisole. "Oh. Well, I suppose I can understand that. And after all, I doubt if anyone out here cares much about proper protocol."

She chuckled. "Oh, you'd be surprised." She reached into the trunk again, stopping short. Inside, Elizabeth had tucked a photograph of Jack when he was about six months old.

Michaela slowly pulled it out, gazing at it mournfully for a long moment.

"Oh, my sweet little boy," she finally murmured.

Elizabeth stepped toward her and put her arm around her waist. "Michaela, I'm going to do whatever I can to make this easier on you. Watching the children, cooking meals, helping with housework. You and Sully need time to learn to cope."

Michaela clutched the photograph to her chest. "Oh, Mother, I'm so sorry I didn't send for you before. I should have. I'm so grateful you're here to help."

Elizabeth laid her hand over the back of the photograph. "I'm not going to let this break you. You and Sully and the children are going to recover from this. I promise."

& & &

"I can't believe you drive all the way out here every day just to bring him to school," Elizabeth remarked disapprovingly. Red Eagle was holding his slate and books and sitting quietly between Michaela and Elizabeth.

"It's not that far," Michaela remarked, clicking her tongue at the horse and slapping the reins. "And the Freedmen school only meets twice a week."

"Do you like the Freedmen school, young man?" Elizabeth asked, glaring down at him.

"Yes, ma'am. Miss Grace sure is smart."

"He's one of the brightest in his class," Michaela said proudly. "His mother was a teacher and gave him plenty of instruction. He's very advanced for his age." She pulled back on the reins as they approached the edge of Shantytown. "Whoa."

Elizabeth eyed the benches and dirty schoolchildren playing nearby with disgust.

"All right, don't be late," Michaela said, hugging Red Eagle.

"Bye-bye, Dr. Mike," he said, kissing her.

"Have a good day, sweetheart."

Red Eagle turned to Elizabeth and hugged her unexpectedly. "Bye-bye, Gran'ma."

"Yes, yes, goodbye," Elizabeth muttered as Red Eagle climbed to the ground.

Michaela waved as he approached his classmates. They ignored him when he tried to join their game of tag, but at least they were refraining from teasing him.

"Michaela, that's not a schoolhouse," Elizabeth scolded as Grace rang her hand bell. "It doesn't even have a roof! It's just a few benches and a desk outside!"

Michaela turned the wagon and headed them back to the main road. "It's all they can manage right now. At least it's something."

"And those children, they were filthy. He's going to bring home all their diseases. You should be ashamed to send him here," she remarked. "He may be Indian but he's also part white, and that should count for something."

"Well, it doesn't. Not in this town. We can't send him to school with Byron and Katie. Not without taking it up with the town council. I don't want to put him through that. Not yet anyway."

"At least they seem to have plenty of supplies. His books and materials were all brand new."

"Actually, those aren't from the Freedmen school. Grace said he could attend on the condition he bring his own supplies. I bought them for him."

"More money out the window," Elizabeth said, shaking her head.

"Mother, what are you suggesting? Are you saying he shouldn't go to school at all? That we shouldn't make his education a priority?"

"Well, one has to wonder if it's really worth the trouble, given how limited his future is going to be. He's certainly never going to be able to enter any kind of profession with any esteem."

"Everyone told me I couldn't be a doctor because I'm a woman. And I overcame that."

"Michaela, that's hardly the same," Elizabeth said with a chuckle.

"Maybe not. And perhaps it's true he'll never go on to college or work in a suit someday. But at least with an education he'll have a better chance at being accepted into our society."

"Well, it won't hurt him," she admitted. "But I still say school or not, that child's future is very bleak."

Michaela looked out at the road pensively, wondering if Elizabeth was right.

& & &

Michaela reached up and gave Elizabeth a hand down from the wagon. Elizabeth took a step toward the cemetery, then suddenly realized Michaela hadn't moved. She turned back around.

"Michaela? Aren't you coming?"

"No. I don't know," she murmured, gazing out at the cemetery hesitantly.

Elizabeth walked back to her, concerned. "What's wrong?"

She bent her head. "I haven't been since…"

Elizabeth tenderly squeezed her arm. "I would have thought you would be out here quite often."

"No. I haven't wanted to. Sully thought we should but…I've always refused." She bit her lip. "I suppose I'm a bit frightened, that's all. The marker…it's so final."

Elizabeth grasped her hand reassuringly. "I'll go with you. We'll visit him together."

Michaela shook her head resolutely. "No, you go. I'll wait here."

Elizabeth reluctantly let go of her hand and entered the cemetery alone. She approached Jack's marker near the oak, not far from Abigail and Hanna Sully's plots.

Elizabeth laid a small bundle of flowers in front of it, then pulled out a handkerchief from her sleeve and tenderly polished the stained wood.

"There we are, Jack. All clean," Elizabeth said unsteadily

She said a silent prayer for a moment, then slowly turned and rejoined Michaela outside the cemetery.

"Oh, the marker's just beautiful," Elizabeth whispered, taking her hand again. "Who made it?"

"Robert E. carved it for us," Michaela murmured tearfully. "He did the casket too."

Elizabeth glanced at Michaela. She was closing her eyes and clutching the side of the wagon desperately as tears flowed speedily down her cheeks.

Elizabeth quickly put her arm around her. "Michaela. Michaela, it's all right to cry. You're still hurting. It's all right to miss him and grieve him. He was your son and you loved him."

Michaela slowly turned to Elizabeth and held her tight as the tears continued.

Elizabeth kissed her cheek and held her all the closer. "And it's all right to forgive yourself. It wasn't your fault."

"…It wasn't my fault," Michaela choked. "I just put him to bed, and he didn't wake up. That's all."

"Yes, yes, it was nothing you did." Elizabeth rocked her. "Oh, I wish I could make this easier for you. I don't know what else to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Mother," Michaela replied tearfully. "Just be here."

to be continued...please leave reviews!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Michaela was expecting it would take several tries to get Jack to nurse, as it had with her previous children. But just minutes after birth, she only had to hold Jack to her breast and he latched on immediately, suckling resolutely. She glanced up at Sully, who was gathering a few towels and sheets from the birth and putting them in the laundry basket.

"Sully, look," she whispered.

He approached her with a proud smile. "Look at him. He's an old hand at this." He gently removed the damp towel between her legs. "Can ya lift up just a little?" he whispered tenderly.

She closed her eyes, letting out a barely audible groan and raising her backside a few inches so he could quickly slide a fresh towel beneath her.

"There we go," he said, squeezing her thigh. "How ya doin'? Better?"

She smiled down at the baby tiredly. "Mm, so much better. I'd forgotten how hard this is."

"I don't know, ya didn't make much noise," he said. "Didn't look so bad to me."

"I was trying not to frighten the children, that's all," she explained wryly.

He leaned forward and kissed her brow. "I know. Ya did good." He stroked the baby's head. "Kids are gonna be so excited."

"Not half as excited as me," she replied lovingly. "Oh, Sully. I'm so glad we decided to do this. He's beautiful. Look at him."

He kissed her. "I'd say our family's complete now."

She gave the baby a sweet kiss on his tiny brow. "You make our family complete, Jack."

Michaela gazed at the photograph of Jack wistfully. She was startled when Sully opened the door.

"Another bad dream. I made him some warm milk," he whispered, crawling into bed.

"Poor thing," she murmured. "Thank you for getting up."

"Where'd you find that?" he asked, putting his arm around her.

"It's Mother's," she explained, tilting the picture toward him.

He gazed at the photograph for a long moment with her, squeezing her shoulder.

"Sure gave us a lotta happy memories," he said at last.

"Yes. I was just thinking about the day he was born. How complete he made me feel. I've been thinking a lot about the good times lately. I don't focus on the death itself so much anymore."

He kissed her temple. "Good."

She tucked the photograph carefully in her book and closed it, putting the book on the nightstand. She cuddled up against Sully in the dim lamplight, sighing tiredly.

"Did you have a good day?" she asked.

"Yep. You?"

"Yes," she said with conviction.

"They're sure busy in town gettin' ready for the Sweetheart's Dance Friday," he remarked. "I was helpin' Jake and Robert E. clear out the benches from the church."

"Oh, the dance. I'd forgotten about that."

"What do you say we go? Dorothy said she could come stay with the kids. Says she don't mind missin' the dance. That way your ma could come too."

"But I have nothing to wear."

"Nothin' to wear?" he replied in disbelief. "Ya got a whole wardrobe full of dresses!"

She giggled. "Sully, I was teasing."

He instantly smiled. "Oh."

"I'll go. I'd like to." She lifted her head and kissed him.

"I like seein' ya get all dressed up," he said lovingly. "Been awhile."

"I like seeing you dressed up, too. You should wear that navy blue suit. I like that one."

"Best part's gonna be undressin' ya once we get home," he replied wryly.

"Sully," she scolded. She giggled despite herself, kissing him. "You'd better behave at that dance. Especially with my mother there."

"So good to see ya smilin'," he whispered, hugging her to him. "I love you."

"Mm, I love you, too," she replied, caressing his back and kissing his cheek.

& & &

"My goodness, young man, you work fast," Elizabeth remarked as she and Michaela shelled peas for supper out on the porch.

Red Eagle was sitting on the porch steps with his slate and arithmetic book, writing down the answers to several of his homework problems.

"You're not being careless, are you, Red Eagle?" Michaela asked, looking up from the peas.

He glanced at her briefly. "No, ma'am. You can check 'em if you want."

She wiped her hands on her apron and reached her arm out, taking the slate from him. She quickly skimmed the problems, smiling.

"All correct so far. Excellent," she said, handing him back the slate.

He beamed and rested the slate back in his lap, going back to writing.

"Well, he's as bright as you were as a child," Elizabeth remarked. "You loved arithmetic. You were always working ahead."

Michaela chuckled. "Do you remember that Latin tutor Father found for me one summer? I must have been about fourteen. He made me work with him three times a week and I was so angry. I said I only wanted to do algebra and geometry and calculus all summer. I was horrid to that tutor."

Elizabeth laughed. "The poor young man. You were so insufferable!"

"But Father was right once again," Michaela admitted. "Latin was invaluable when it came time for me to go to medical school."

"Latin? Could I learn that?" Red Eagle spoke up.

"I doubt they're teaching Latin at the Freedmen school," Elizabeth remarked, shaking her head and shelling a few more pea pods. "You'll be lucky if he learns proper English."

"I suppose I could teach you a little, sweetheart," Michaela said, shielding her eyes and looking out at the road as the wagon came into view. "I remember some of it."

He nodded eagerly, smiling. "Yeah, I want to."

"There's Byron and Katie back from school," she remarked, watching as Sully pulled the wagon up to the porch.

"How was school?" Michaela called cheerfully.

"Good," Katie called back, climbing down from the wagon and racing up the porch. She embraced Elizabeth and Michaela.

"Can I have something to eat before supper?" the little girl asked.

"There's a basket of apples on the table. You and Red Eagle and Byron can each have one," Michaela said.

"Come on, Red Eagle," Katie said, opening the door. Red Eagle left his slate on the porch and followed her inside.

Sully stepped over Byron and jumped to the ground. He reached his arms up to Byron. "Come on. Gotta face it sometime."

"What's wrong?" Michaela asked, immediately noticing Byron's forlorn expression.

Sully lifted him down and the little boy trudged up the stairs, handing Michaela a folded piece of paper.

"Oh. A note from the teacher?" Michaela said quietly, taking the paper from him.

Byron nodded solemnly.

Michaela opened it and quickly read it, her expression unchanging. "All right. Go inside and get an apple. We'll talk about it later."

Byron raced inside, eager to delay any fallout that might come from what he assumed was a stern note.

Michaela passed the paper to Sully and he read it.

"It seems he didn't want to do his schoolwork today," Michaela explained. "Teresa gave him some addition to work on and he wouldn't even try it."

"Well, no wonder, I suppose they were too easy for him," Elizabeth replied. "I don't think Byron and Katie are very challenged at that little school."

"Says here he's gonna fail he keeps this up," Sully said, looking at the note.

"She's always threatening that, Sully," Michaela replied, shaking her head. "And she never actually does. I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Frankly, I never liked her," Elizabeth added. "She's far too hard on the poor dear. For heaven's sake, look at everything he's going through at home. He has another little boy sharing his already small room who's now part of the family. Not to mention he just lost his baby brother in a very sudden and traumatic way. She could show a little sympathy."

Michaela slowly nodded in agreement. "Yes, he's been going through a lot of changes in a short time."

"I don't know, I think she's been pretty patient up till now," Sully said, shrugging. "Byron ain't the easiest child to teach. I bet he's been givin' her a hard time for awhile."

"Utter nonsense," Elizabeth said. "He's one of the smartest children that teacher of his will ever meet."

"Folks always think their child's the smartest," Sully remarked with a soft smile.

"Well, he is," Elizabeth retorted. "After all, he comes from a family of doctors. But I doubt Mrs. Slicker will ever truly appreciate our background."

Michaela bit her lip. "He does seem to have trouble with arithmetic. He doesn't seem to fully understand it no matter what anyone does."

"Maybe arithmetic ain't gonna be his thing," Sully said. "Just cause you're good at it don't mean your son's gotta be."

"Oh, Sully, he's being stubborn is all this is, just like his mother was when she didn't want to do something at that age," Elizabeth explained. "Michaela, you've been helping him nearly every night and he'll catch on eventually. No need to panic over this."

Sully lifted one foot up on the porch steps and leaned on his knee. "So what we gonna do? Write her back?"

"A note like that doesn't deserve acknowledgement," Elizabeth said, shelling another pod.

Michaela looked at Elizabeth and then down at Sully, torn.

"Well, I think she's probably overreacting," Michaela said quietly. "And I think Mother's right, he's been through a lot recently. She could stand to have a little more patience with him."

"Precisely. Not to mention she's causing you and Sully unnecessary worry at a very difficult time for both of you. I'm tempted to go have a talk with her myself, give her a piece of my mind."

":Let's just try to help him here at home for now, try to handle this ourselves," Michaela said hesitantly. "I'm sure things will improve."

Sully nodded, sticking the note in his pocket.

"Of course they will," Elizabeth said firmly. She patted Michaela's arm. "That Mexican is under qualified and at times very unreasonable. I don't put much stock in a thing she says. Don't you worry about this another moment, Michaela."

Michaela stood with her bowl of peas. "No, I'm not going to. Let's start supper."

& & &

Michaela dished up slices of blueberry pie for everyone as they listened to the children chatter on about their school day.

"Denver's the capital of Colorado," Red Eagle said. "Helena's the capital of Montana where I used to live. And Oklahoma City's the capital of Oklahoma."

"That's excellent, Red Eagle," Michaela said proudly.

"Well, at least knowing the state capitals is somewhat useful," Elizabeth remarked, taking a bite of her pie.

"Try this one. What's the capital of New York?" Michaela said, handing the last piece of pie to Sully.

"That's easy, Mama. New York City," Byron said.

Red Eagle shook his head with a smile. "She's trying to trick us. It's Albany."

"Albany!" Byron exclaimed with dismay. "Who's ever heard of Albany?"

"Sounds like you're liking school," Michaela said, patting Red Eagle's hand.

He nodded eagerly, taking a big bite of pie. "I like learning new things."

"He even likes homework!" Byron said. "He's crazy!"

Everyone's laughter was interrupted by loud pounding on the door.

Sully put his napkin on the table and got up to answer it as everyone turned in their seats to watch. He opened the door to reveal three tall, intimidating young men from Shantytown.

"Evening, folks," Sully said.

"How do," one of them said. "I'm Carl. We just come from the meetin' house where we been discussin' your boy here."

Michaela stood, approaching the doorway. "I didn't know you were having a meeting about him. I would have liked to be there."

Carl touched the brim of his hat. "Dr. Mike. How do. Didn't really need you there. We voted and decided we just as soon not have him attend our school. Came out here to let you know."

"I can't go to school anymore?" Red Eagle murmured sadly, his pie forgotten.

"Lucky," Byron muttered.

"But Grace said he could," Michaela protested. "I discussed this with Grace."

"All do respect to Miss Grace, but she don't run our school," the man to the left of Carl said firmly. "The Freedmen Bureau does. And the Freedmen Bureau says Negroes only. She was oversteppin' her bounds givin' you permission. She's been given a warnin'."

"Gentleman, surely you can make an exception just this once," she pleaded.

"Look here, Dr. Mike," Carl said passionately, removing his hat. "White folks been tellin' me what to do my whole life. When I was a slave I couldn't so much as spit without my masta's permission. Now that I'm free white folks still tellin' me what land I can buy, what buildings I can and can't go into, where my youn'uns can and can't go to school. The Freedmen school was set up for us Negroes, and it's bout the only thing we got that's all ours. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some white lady who thinks she knows the first thing about how hard it is to be colored come in and tell us our school ain't our own anymore, that we gotta let in whoever she pleases."

Michaela swallowed hard, chastened. "Carl, I realize the school is important to you and I respect that. And I respect the fact that you want to keep it your own. I'm simply asking you to please allow our son to come there for the time being."

"Respect," he muttered. "You stopped respectin' us the moment you ran to Grace and asked her to let in that Injun behind our backs."

"That ain't what she was doin'," Sully said defensively.

Carl pointed his finger at her impatiently. "Folks was real riled up at that meeting. Not only with you, but with Grace and Robert E. Lotta folks don't trust them, and nobody trusts white folks around here."

Michaela gently grasped Sully's hand for support. "Carl, I've been coming to Shantytown for years to give medical services to those who were ailing. I know you know that because I've treated that gout of yours. I've helped you, now I'm asking you to help me."

"Ya pull that boy outta school today or we'll get the Freedmen Bureau involved," Carl retorted. "Don't bring him back there, Dr. Mike. You'll regret it." He put his hat back on his head. "We don't need none of your charity either. G'night, doctor." He slammed the door in their faces.

Michaela and Sully stepped back from the door, stunned.

Katie timidly put her hands in her lap. "Who were those mean men, Mama?" she whispered.

"Just some people from Shantytown," she said hoarsely.

"Looks like you're stayin' home tomorrow, Red Eagle," Sully murmured. "I'm sorry."

Red Eagle looked up at him and swiped away a fat tear.

"No. No he's not. I'm going to bring him to school tomorrow," Michaela said resolutely.

"Michaela, don't be ridiculous!" Elizabeth scolded. "You heard those men. He can't come back!"

"So we just give up?" she replied. "No, we've got to fight this."

"Fight it? How?" Sully said impatiently. "They got the Freedmen Bureau on their side. I know how this is gonna turn out and so do you."

"They do have a point, Michaela," Elizabeth added. "The Freedmen Bureau was set up for the Negroes. It can't seem fair to them some outsider comes in wanting to take part, too."

"What's not fair is with three schools in Colorado Springs there isn't one that has welcomed him," Michaela said angrily. "How many schools do I have to take him to? How long are we going to take this lying down?"

"We ain't takin' it lying down. But we gotta pick our battles with him," Sully said evenly. "We gotta decide which ones are worth fightin', and which ones we even got a shot at."

"His education is a battle I think we should be fighting," she said. "I think it's the most important thing."

"No, we ain't bringin' him back," Sully said firmly. "Not to there."

"If he's never going to amount to anything anyway, perhaps this is something you should let go, Michaela," Elizabeth remarked.

"Grandma," Brian murmured. "He's real smart. You heard him reciting the capitals."

"He's very bright for his age," Elzabeth admitted. "But that really doesn't matter. The fact is he's a half breed."

Byron tugged on her blouse sleeve. "We're not allowed to say that. We'll get in trouble."

"Oh, spare me," Elizabeth muttered.

Red Eagle suddenly stood up. "I didn't mean to make you all fight. Please, stop fighting. I won't go back to school. Just stop yelling."

Everyone quieted and Michaela and Sully slowly took their seats.

"Let's finish our meal," Michaela said unsteadily, picking up her fork. "Come on. Red Eagle, it's your favorite. Blueberry. Sit down."

Red Eagle swallowed hard, reluctantly taking his seat. "Yes, ma'am."

to be continued...please read reviews


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

"It was an absolute disaster," Elizabeth said to Loren as he counted the cash in his moneybox. "I thought they were ready to pull a gun on Michaela if she kept arguing with them."

"Well, serves her right. She had no business takin' him to that school in the first place. He's Indian, not colored," Loren replied.

"No, she certainly didn't. And if you ask me I think it's all but pointless to educate him anyway. The only work he's ever going to find when he's a grown man is probably as a hired hand. No one as respectable as yourself would ever hire him."

"Nope. Nobody would. He better get used to pickin' fruit and vegetables."

Elizabeth pressed her hand to her heart. "Oh, I can't believe the mess she and Sully have gotten themselves into taking in that boy."

"Why they don't just send him back to that orphanage is beyond me," Loren said, securing a money clip to a stack of bills.

"Oh, I can only wish," Elizabeth replied. "She absolutely adores him. And it's clear he loves her, too. Not to mention how well he gets along with the children. I'm afraid everyone may be too attached now to change anything. I've come too late."

"Well, he is well behaved," Loren admitted. "Listens to Dr. Mike and Sully, helps out, don't talk back like all the other youn'uns around here these days."

"No, you'd be hard pressed to say he's not an easy going child. I suppose that's a credit to his mother."

"Well, at least Hattie Randolph did somethin' right. Still don't change the fact that she took up with that Indian out of wedlock, then managed to get herself in a fix with his child."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "She wasn't even married? Oh, no, this is worse than I thought."

Loren packed up the cash back in the box. "My advice to you is to go on back to Boston and come back when this is all over. I know you, Elizabeth, and I know it's only gonna upset you watchin' that daughter of yours runnin' all over Colorado Springs crusadin' on that boy's behalf."

"No, I've got to try to reason with Michaela. I've got to try to stop her."

"Good luck. You'll need it," Loren said firmly, slamming his cash box closed.

"Hey, Mr. Bray," Brian said, entering the store. "How's my haircut, Grandma?" he asked, removing his hat to reveal his neatly trimmed hair.

Elizabeth nodded with approval. "Oh, yes, it looks wonderful. At least someone in the family is still getting their hair cut properly."

"Sarah's never gonna let me bring her to the dance without a haircut and a shave," Brian said.

"You young folks, that's all you can talk about is that dance," Loren remarked.

"You should go, too, Mr. Bray," Brian replied.

"Dorothy ain't goin'. For some reason she'd rather watch Katie and Byron and that Injun boy. So I guess that means I got nobody to bring."

"Yes ya do. You can bring Gran'ma," Brian suggested with a smile.

"Oh," he replied, clearing his throat. "I didn't know you were goin', Elizabeth."

"I was planning to. Michaela wants to go and I think it'll be good to get her out of the house and a break from the children for a night."

"Well, would you like to go with me? I'd be honored to escort you."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, of course, Loren. I'd be honored to accept."

& & &

Sully laid on his side, his back to the fireplace. It had been another quiet evening. Michaela was going about her nighttime routine in silence, changing into her nightgown, brushing her hair and washing her face. They strongly disagreed on what to do about Red Eagle's schooling, and Michaela sensed that no amount of persuading was going to get Sully to change his mind about sending him back to the Shantytown school.

Finally she joined him in bed. She was afraid things could come to a head between them very rapidly if she didn't try to smooth things over with him soon. She tentatively reached out and squeezed his bare shoulder.

"Are you sleeping?" she whispered.

"No, just thinkin'."

She shifted up and kissed his shoulder a few times while she stroked his back with one hand.

He smiled softly. "That feels good."

She smiled and continued to stroke his back. "What are you thinking about?"

He sighed, turning to his back and folding his arms. "I ain't heard from Cloud Dancin' since Red Eagle showed up on the Reservation. I got a feelin' he's still pretty angry at me."

She moved her hand up to his chest and caressed him. "Oh, Sully. He's just a little taken aback by this, that's all."

He smoothed her hair. "He's always been such a part of our lives. I don't want that to change. But I ain't sure he even wants to see me right now."

"Perhaps he's wondering the same thing about you."

"Ya think so?"

"You're right, he's been so important to us. We should make things right. Perhaps you should go out there and try to talk to him. The Cloud Dancing I know will at least hear you out."

He nodded. "That's a good idea. I'll go out tomorrow."

"Good." She found his hand and kissed the back of it. "Byron's hands look just like yours. I noticed that right away the day he was born."

"'Cept he don't have hair on 'em," he replied with a wry grin.

She chuckled. "Yes, he's not so hairy like his pa. Not yet anyway."

"Maybe he's got my hands, but he's got your good heart. He looks at Red Eagle and he don't see all of what I can't get past."

She swallowed, knowing what he said was true.

He glanced at her. "Michaela, awhile back he was askin' me if he could call me Pa. He surprised me. Only thing I could think to do was to tell him not to. And I think he was real hurt by it."

She drew in her breath. "Well, he doesn't call me Ma either."

"Maybe he should. I ain't so sure I'm ready for that, but maybe it would help him feel more a part of this family."

"Well, we shouldn't do something we're uncomfortable with."

"You're uncomfortable with it?"

"I don't know. I suppose I was thinking more about you. I don't want him to call me Mama unless you say he can call you Pa, too."

"That's a little manipulative, don't ya think?" he muttered.

"Manipulative?" she breathed, stunned. "I'm manipulative? If anyone's manipulative it's you, the way you teach him about scouting and fishing and all those Cheyenne words and then turn around and tell him not to call you Pa."

"Michaela, I'm tired. I don't want to fight about him right now."

"Fine. Goodnight," she replied, turning her back to him and drawing the covers up around her.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling guiltily. "Night," he murmured.

& & &

Michaela brought her hoe down hard on the rocky soil, rapidly working away at the stubborn weeds. She was aggravated with Sully about everything, from how he felt about Red Eagle's schooling, to his constant objections to bringing Red Eagle to church, to his insistence the child grow his hair out, and she was glad he had gone to the Reservation for the day. It seemed there was nothing they agreed on at the moment when it came to Red Eagle. They needed a break from each other, and it was a good opportunity for her to spend some time with her mother.

Elizabeth crouched nearby, wearing a pair of Michaela' gardening gloves and pulling up weeds. She watched her daughter hoeing frantically. Sweat was dripping down her temples and she was out of breath. "Michaela, slow down before you faint dead away. This isn't a race."

Michaela glanced at her, eyes suddenly widening. "No, wait, Mother, that's not a weed!" she exclaimed frantically. "That's my tomato plant!"

Elizabeth stopped yanking on the tomato plant. "Oh. Well, I can't tell what's a weed and what's not. I don't know the first thing about gardening."

"Mother, you organize that flower show every year," Michaela said with a sigh, wiping her brow with the back of her arm and resuming her hoeing.

"Yes, well, I can grow roses. But not anything practical like you do." She pulled up a few more weeds. "Oh, I keep forgetting to mention this. Katie's chair in her room wobbles. You should tell Sully to fix it."

"Oh, he knows about that. But the first thing he needs to do is make Red Eagle a proper bed. He's been sleeping on that cot for months. And then after that we're probably going to need to start talking about adding on another bedroom. Especially once I become pregnant."

Elizabeth let out a deep sigh. "Michaela, are you really serious about all this?"

"About what?"

"About adopting Red Eagle for heaven's sake."

"Let's not start this again, Mother."

"I just don't think you're being sensible that's all. And now Sully thinks you should have a baby, too? Men have absolutely no sympathy for what we go through. You've already done it three times, isn't that enough? I'd say you've fulfilled any duty you had to him."

"Mother, you had five children," Michaela said with a chuckle, moving down the row a few feet and continuing her hoeing.

"Yes, well, that was all your father's idea to be perfectly honest with you. I was quite happy with two until he informed me he needed a boy. And look how that turned out."

"I see. So you didn't really want me."

"Stop the dramatics. Of course I did. I'm only saying this is all so absolutely preposterous to think you could actually raise a child like that in a town like this. Think how much better off he would be at an orphanage."

Michaela thought back to when Sully had told her about the terrifying week he had spent at the orphanage asylum in Brooklyn. "Sully was placed in an orphanage when he was a little boy. No child is better off there."

"Oh, that was what, thirty years ago?" Elizabeth said dismissively, grabbing a few more weeds. "Orphanages have seen quite a bit of reform since then. They're pleasant places to be now."

"Not pleasant for a child like Red Eagle," Michaela said. "The children there broke his arm."

"This is hopeless. You're going to do what you want anyway regardless of my opinion," Elizabeth said, shaking her head.

"Mother, I know this is hard for you to understand. And I know what we're doing hasn't been easy. But you're just going to have to accept that Sully and I have agreed to raise him for better or worse."

"As if you and Sully have ever agreed once on what's best for him."

Michaela bit her lip. "Well, we're working through that."

"Just don't sign those adoption papers yet, that's all I ask," Elizabeth replied. "Give it some more time. Michaela, please, at least promise me that much."

Michaela hesitated, resting her hands on the top of her hoe. It seemed no one wanted her to sign the papers. At last she gave a small nod in reply.

"Thank goodness," Elizabeth breathed, going back to weeding.

& & &

Sully spotted Cloud Dancing sitting in front of a campfire near his hut, carving a piece of wood pensively with a long knife.

"Ha ho," Sully called, extending his hand.

Cloud Dancing grasped his arm just below the elbow. "Sully. Ha ho," he replied.

Sully sat beside him, crossing his legs and gazing into the fire.

"We could use some rain," Cloud Dancing remarked. "It's been many months."

"Cloud Dancin', I know how ya feel about-"

"Anger was making me foolish," Cloud Dancing interrupted. "I spoke too harshly."

"I shoulda come see ya weeks ago, talk to ya about Michaela and me takin' in the Indian boy. I'm sorry."

"He is to be a member of the family now," Cloud Dancing replied.

"That's what Michaela wants. Wants to make it legal next time the circuit judge comes to town."

"Has this been good for you?"

Sully stared into the flames pensively. "In some ways, I think it's been real good for us. The kids love him, and he keeps Michaela busy. Other times I wonder if Michaela's hidin' behind him, gettin' so caught up in everything goin' on with him she don't have to face our troubles."

"Everyone must find a way to live with what happened to Jack. Perhaps this will be her way."

"We're tryin' to have another baby. I thought maybe that's what we need right now," Sully said quietly.

Cloud Dancing ran his knife slowly down the wood. "The Spirits say you won't have any more children."

Sully swallowed, disappointment bearing down hard on him. "They told ya that?"

Cloud Dancing slowly nodded.

"They could be wrong," Sully said helplessly. "It'll just take some time is all. All our kids took a lotta patience."

"That part of your journey together is over," Cloud Dancing said wisely. "Now you must start down a new path."

"Cloud Dancin', I don't know how to love Red Eagle. I want to do right by him. But I see his father when I look at him. You're right, it makes no sense me takin' in the son of my enemy."

"You're not Cheyenne. He's not your enemy."

"I feel Cheyenne, you know that. And I care about you. I care what ya think about this. I want your help with it."

Cloud Dancing stared into the flames pensively. "I've been thinking about this boy for many weeks. I've been remembering how Custer and the Crow people have treated my people. I think there must be another home better suited for him."

"There ain't. Michaela tried for almost a month to place him with a good family."

"Maybe she didn't really want him to find a home."

Sully rested his chin on his hand. It was not the first time he had considered the possibility. "Michaela thinks we were meant to cross paths with him. She's so sure this is the right thing to do."

"She loves him. She would not have been so angry with me that day if she didn't."

"I don't want her to do this by herself. If we're gonna take him in I should be helpin' her, supportin' her just as much as I have with our own kids. She must feel like she's all alone in this, and that ain't right."

"He dresses like the white man, talks like the white man, reads the books white men read. He knows nothing of Indian ways. You could teach him."

"I taught him a few Cheyenne words. He picked up on those right away."

"Teach him to speak it. Tell him our stories. Tell him about our ways."

"I ain't sure where to start."

Cloud Dancing rose to his feet and slid his knife back into the pouch on his belt. "Wait here."

Sully watched as he walked into his hut. He returned a few moments later, carrying a large deer hide. Sully stood, folding his arms.

"I took this buck yesterday," Cloud Dancing explained. "I have just started to tan the hide." He held it out to Sully.

"Cloud Dancin', it's too much. I have to give ya somethin' for this."

"Take it and make buckskins for the boy. Even if he doesn't put them on, perhaps if he has something Indians wear, it will help him begin to understand his roots."

Sully slowly reached out and took the hide from him. "Thank you, Cloud Dancin'."

Cloud Dancing nodded in acknowledgment, sitting back down and silently resuming his carving.

& & &

Sully stood in the barn and poured a bucket of water into a barrel.

Michaela opened the barn door. "You're back," she called, approaching him and giving him a little kiss.

"Hey," he replied with a soft smile. "Supper ready?"

"Almost. Did you talk to Cloud Dancing?"

"Yep, we had a good visit. He gave me that hide," he said, gesturing at the deerskin laying across one of the stalls.

"Oh, that must have been a large deer. Are you going to tan it?" she asked curiously, walking to the hide and touching the fur.

He picked up a long paddle Michaela used for laundry and stirred the liquid in the barrel. "Not yet. I gotta soak it in this barrel a few days first so the hair'll come off easy. I got hardwood ashes in here, and slaked lime. And water. It's how ya make buckskin."

"Buckskin? What are you planning to do with it?"

"Make pants and a jacket for Red Eagle."

She chuckled. "Why?"

He glanced up as he continued to stir, surprised at her laughter. "Why? Cause Cloud Dancin' thought it'd be a good idea. Thinks it'll help him feel more Indian."

"Oh, now Cloud Dancing offers his opinion when he all but told us he never wanted to see Red Eagle again," Michaela retorted.

"He's makin' an effort, Michaela," Sully replied patiently. "And I happen to agree with him."

"Well, I don't. He can't go around town wearing buckskin. He's never worn that in his life. He's going to look ridiculous in it. Everyone will be talking about him."

Sully walked to the stall and grabbed the hide, submerging it carefully in the water. "Ya sayin' I look ridiculous?"

She glanced at his buckskins, realizing her error. "Sully, of course not. But you wear buckskins because you identify with the Cheyenne. You're comfortable dressing that way. Red Eagle won't be. You're trying to force something on him I don't think he really understands or wants."

"Maybe he don't know what he wants. I ain't gonna make him wear 'em if he don't want, but at least he'll have somethin' of the Indians. I thought that's what his pa and ma were for, to help him with all this."

"That's right, his pa and his ma. And as his mother I'm saying I want him to dress like our other children. I'm letting him grow his hair, isn't that enough? The only reason he wants to do that in the first place is because of you. It has nothing to do with wanting to be Indian."

"Don't you care what Cloud Dancin' thinks?" he replied. "He's got ideas for how we can do this better."

"No, I don't care what he thinks as a matter of fact," she spat back. "Not about this anyway. And frankly I'm very angry at him right now. He had no right to treat Byron and Red Eagle so harshly that day they were on the Reservation. Byron was upset for a week afterward. And the way he spoke to you and I was incredibly uncalled for. He acts as if we're doing this to spite him. He has no appreciation for everything we're sacrificing to raise this child." She shook her head. "No, I know what's best for him. Not Cloud Dancing."

"Figures ya gotta do this your way, just like everything else," Sully muttered. "Figures ya won't wanna listen to anybody."

"That's not true," she replied impatiently. "I'm perfectly willing to hear other opinions if they come from someone who can respect you and I for doing this.

"Fact is you only wanna hear from folks that agree with you," Sully replied, resting his hands on the top of the barrel. "From the start of this you never had any intentions of lettin' anybody else help ya. Gotta do it all by yourself, always out to prove somethin'."

She clenched her fists angrily. "I am not trying to prove anything! Just because you were never very fond of the idea of adopting him doesn't mean you have to take it out on me."

"No, I wasn't fond of it," he replied. "Still ain't. But at least I'm tryin'."

"He needs more than that, Sully. He needs parents completely committed to raising him together, working together to do the right thing. Don't you want to do this with me?"

"Michaela, maybe part of raisin' a child like this is acceptin' that as white parents, we're not always gonna be able to know what's the right thing to do. We're gonna have shortcomings we can't always do much about."

"No, I won't accept that," she replied. "We can find the right way to do this if we just persist enough."

"At what cost?" he replied quietly, pointing at his chest. "Me and you?"

She swallowed, taken off guard. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "All this time I was worried what our baby passin' away could do to what we got. I didn't think it would be Red Eagle that would come between us."

Hurt, she backed up a step.

"Sometimes I think you care more about Red Eagle than anything else," he went on solemnly. "Ya always seem a lot more worried about him than what happens to the two of us."

"Oh, Sully. Of course I'm worried about us," she replied unsteadily. "Ever since he passed away I've worried what that could do to us. I just don't know how to make it better, that's all."

"You ain't the same, not since it happened," he whispered, eyes glistening with tears. "What happened to the Michaela I used to know? I miss her."

"She died with our son," she whispered back.

He silently grasped the paddle and pushed the deer hide deeper into the water, focusing on the task and not looking up.

Michaela watched him work for a moment, then not knowing what more to say, she turned and walked out of the barn, shutting the door after her.

to be continued...leave reviews please


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Sully walked into the kitchen and put the milk bucket on the table, avoiding Michaela's eyes and not saying a word. Michaela and Elizabeth were cracking several eggs into a bowl.

Elizabeth waited a moment for someone to speak, then cleared her throat. "Good morning, Sully."

"I'll be in the south field all day workin' on that fence," he said quietly.

"Wait, let me make you some breakfast," Michaela said, turning and taking down a plate from the shelf.

"No, thanks," he replied, walking to the coat rack and taking down his jacket.

"You can't work on an empty stomach," Michaela protested.

"Sully, don't be stubborn. Come back here and have something substantial to eat," Elizabeth added.

"I said no thanks," he replied, opening the door and shutting it firmly behind him.

"What on Earth's the matter with him?" Elizabeth demanded. "That was outright rude, not even answering me when I said good morning."

Michaela bit her lip and cracked another egg into the bowl, too upset to reply.

Elizabeth eyed her worriedly. "Michaela, what's the matter? Did something happen?"

She shrugged. "We…we had a bad fight yesterday."

"Oh, dear," Elizabeth murmured. "What about?"

"I really don't feel like talking about this, Mother," Michaela replied, turning to the stove and placing a griddle on the stovetop.

"It was about that Indian child, wasn't it?" Elizabeth said pressingly. "What does Sully want now? Wants to send him on one of those vision quests?"

"Don't be absurd," Michaela replied.

"I'm only saying Sully's ideas about what's best for him and everyone else's are vastly different. This is only going to lead to more trouble between you two."

She sighed, leaning against the counter. "Actually, Sully's been trying a lot harder than he was before. There was a time when he wanted nothing to do with Red Eagle. He actually told him not to call him Pa."

"Well, that's the first sensible thing I've heard about this since I've gotten here. Of course the child shouldn't call him Pa. Sully isn't his father. And moreover you aren't his mother."

"Don't start, Mother," Michaela replied. "You know how I feel about him. He's my son now."

"Well, I still think this all goes back to Jack no matter what you say," Elizabeth replied boldly. "You need to take a hard look at your real motives here. Had Jack never passed away I doubt you'd have the slightest interest in Red Eagle."

"You don't know that."

"Send him back to that orphanage, Michaela, I beg of you," Elizabeth pleaded. "You're putting your marriage on the line for heaven sake! And for what?"

Michaela lowered her head, biting back tears. "Sully said I'm not the same since Jack passed away. He says he misses the Michaela he used to know."

Elizabeth grasped her hands sympathetically. "Of course you're not the same. Losing a child is a horrible event and no doubt everything will be different afterward. It will take some getting used to. Sully's not the same either, you know. But you'll grow and change together. I only wish while trying to do so you hadn't taken on all of this with Red Eagle."

"I won't send him back," Michaela said resolutely. "And I know Sully doesn't want that either."

"Well, that's about the only thing you agree on right now," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "I suppose it's a start."

& & &

Byron stood on the fence and held a carrot flat in his hand, feeding it to Flash. The sun had set several minutes before and the crickets were chirping. Red Eagle climbed up beside him, timidly holding out a carrot and quickly withdrawing when Flash tried to grab it from him.

"What, are you scared of her?" Byron said with a giggle.

"No!" Red Eagle retorted defensively. "Just don't want her to get my fingers. Her teeth are big."

"You're not doing it right. Hold your hand flat," Byron instructed.

"I am too doing it right."

"No, hold your hand flat," Byron insisted.

"I don't have to!" Red Eagle said. "Quit bossing me!"

"Hey, stop fightin'," Sully called, walking toward the boys with his tool box.

"Papa's back!" Byron shouted, jumping down from the fence and running to Sully.

Sully put down his toolbox and picked Byron up, hugging him for a long moment. He relished in the little boy's unwavering affection for him, and suddenly felt guilty for avoiding the family all day.

"You fix the fence, Sully?" Red Eagle asked, remaining near Flash and turning to face him.

He put Byron back on his feet. "Sure did. Those posts should hold for awhile now."

"Papa, I told Red Eagle about that time you and Daniel got mixed up in the woods in New York."

"Did ya?"

"Yeah, and ya used the stars to guide ya back, right, Papa?" Byron went on.

"The stars can really show you which way to go, Sully?" Red Eagle asked, looking up at him with sheer reverence.

"Come on, I'll show ya," he said, taking each of their hands and leading them to the porch. He sat with them and put his arms around them as they gazed up at the clear sky. He pointed upward. "Ya see the Big Dipper? Look on the right side of the cup, at those two stars. Ya see?"

"I see it!" Red Eagle exclaimed.

"I see it!" Byron echoed.

"Now you pretend those two stars are pointing up, and follow them straight up until you hit a star. That's the North Star. Find that and you'll always know which way is North." He kissed Byron's head. "Daniel and me knew our camp was to the South. So as long as we kept walkin' away from the North Star, we'd hit it eventually."

"Did you find it, Sully?" Red Eagle asked.

"I'm here, ain't I?" he replied with a soft smile.

Michaela opened the door. "Boys? Time for bed," she called.

"Listen to your ma. It's gettin' late," Sully added.

"Night, Papa," Byron said, hugging and kissing him.

"Night, Sully," Red Eagle said. "Thanks for teaching me that."

Sully gave him a gentle hug. "Sure. Night, Red Eagle."

Michaela guided the boys inside and then joined Sully on the steps, tentatively sitting beside him.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You were gone so long."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired," he replied softly. "Fence is done."

"Are you hungry? I saved you a plate."

"Yeah, in a minute," he replied.

"What you said was true," she whispered. "I haven't been the same."

He folded his hands pensively. "Michaela, that didn't come out right. I don't mean I feel different about ya. I love you just as much as I ever have. Ya know that, don't ya?"

She smiled softly. "I know."

"Good," he whispered, putting his arm around her and drawing her to him. "Pretty night, huh?"

She grasped his hand and squeezed, relieved to be back in his arms.

& & &

"This is the bishop," Katie explained, holding up the polished white chess piece. She slid it across the board in a diagonal. "It moves like this, see?"

The children were sitting on the porch steps, crouched over the chess board as they taught Red Eagle how to play.

Red Eagle picked up the black bishop and moved it along the board experimentally.

Michaela opened the door, putting on her cowboy hat. "Be careful with my chess board. That was your Grandpa Quinn's."

"What's that piece? I like it," Red Eagle spoke up, pointing.

"That's the horse," Byron said. "It moves funny, in an L shape."

"That's the knight, Byron, not a horse," Michaela said with a smile, putting her medical bag on the saddle horn and mounting Flash. "Pay attention, Red Eagle. Perhaps when I get back we can play together."

"Mama's really good," Katie said proudly. "She always beats Papa."

"Dr. Mike can beat Sully?" Red Eagle asked, astonished.

"Dr. Mike can beat Sully badly," Michaela replied wryly. "All right, I'll only be gone a few hours. I'm just going to make a few house calls. Grandma's inside. Oh, and Byron, I want you to muck out Flash's stall while I'm gone. Give her lots of fresh hay."

Byron looked at her, surprised. "What? Mama, that's no fair!"

"I think it's very fair. Red Eagle does far more chores around here than you do and you're the same age. I want you to start pitching in more."

He crossed his arms, irritated. "She's your horse. You can do it."

She gathered the reins impatiently. "Byron, I don't have time for this. I have to go make these house calls and then come back and cook supper and bathe and get ready for the dance tonight. I'm asking you to please help me and clean out Flash's stall."

Byron stared back at her tenaciously. Michaela suddenly sympathized with her own mother as she remembered all the times as a little girl she had looked back at her with that same expression Byron had on his face, stubbornly unwilling to budge when Elizabeth had asked her to do the simplest thing. Elizabeth threatening to tell her father when he came home from the hospital what a naughty girl she had been had often been the only thing that got little Michaela to move.

Michaela bit her lip. It was worth a try. "Young man, when your pa gets home I'll have to tell him you disobeyed me. Is that what you want?"

He sulked. "No," he muttered.

"Good, then go do it right now," she said.

He trudged down the stairs toward the barn. "She's not my horse," he said under his breath.

Michaela sighed with frustration and glanced at Katie and Red Eagle. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she said, giving Flash a squeeze with her thighs.

"Bye-bye, Mama," Katie called as Flash trotted toward town.

Byron was still folding his arms crossly as he shoved open the barn door with his foot and walked to Flash's stall. He grabbed the rake and pushed the dirty hay around angrily.

"It's not my smelly horse. It's no fair," he muttered. He coughed a few times and rubbed his eyes with his shirt. "It's no fair. I never get to have any fun. " He paused to cough again, harder and longer. He rested the rake against the wall and held onto the side of the stall, bending over and continuing to cough. He tried to take a deep breath but couldn't. He felt his airway passages quickly narrowing. He suddenly panicked, panting rapidly, wheezing and coughing as he struggled for air.

"Mama," he choked frantically. "Mama!"

He tried to walk out of the barn to get help, but could only make it a few steps before her fell weakly to his hands and knees.

Red Eagle moved one of his center pawns forward two squares.

Katie replied by moving one of her black knights out.

Red Eagle studied the board for a long moment and then made the identical mood with one of his knights.

"Good, Red Eagle," Katie said with an encouraging smile. "Mama says always get the knights out right away."

He smiled softly, turning his head to look at the barn.

Katie moved her other knight out, clutching her knees. "Your turn. Go, Red Eagle."

"Maybe I could go help Byron with his chores," he remarked.

"Mama said he has to. He has to pitch in."

"She didn't say I couldn't help him, did she? Sides if I help him he'll finish sooner and then we can all play."

Katie shrugged. "All right. If you really want to."

"We'll be done in no time," he said, scurrying down the porch and running to the barn. He thrust the door open with a smile.

"Don't worry, I'll help you, Byron," he said cheerfully. He stopped short, spotting the little boy on the ground wheezing for air. His face was very pale and his lips were a faint blue.

"Byron!" Red Eagle cried, falling to his knees beside him. "Byron, what's wrong? What's wrong?"

Byron clutched his chest, looking at the other little boy fearfully. "The…hay," he choked. "Asthma."

"Come on, we gotta get outta here!" Red Eagle said, grabbing his hand.

Byron was working too hard to breathe to move. He could only crouch there and gag and wheeze. Without missing a beat Red Eagle grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him to his feet. Then he dragged the little boy out of the barn as fast as he could.

"Grandma! Grandma!" Red Eagle screamed as he came outside. "Grandma, help! Help! Help!"

Katie got to her feet. "Byron! Gran'ma, hurry!"

"What in heaven's name?" Elizabeth cried, opening the front door with her needlepoint still in hand. "Oh, my Lord," she murmured as she took in the sight of her grandson fighting for breath in Red Eagle's arms. She dropped the needlepoint, lifted her skirts and hurried down the stairs, meeting the boys halfway.

"What's happening?" Elizabeth asked. "What's wrong?"

"It's his asthma," Katie explained tearfully. "He's having an attack."

"Oh, no, oh no," Elizabeth said, panicking. "What should we do?"

"Take short breaths, Byron. Take short breaths," Katie instructed.

The little boy tried, but was too upset and terrified to try to breathe the way he was supposed to to lessen the effects of the attack. Instead he gasped for a big breath of air and coughed violently.

"It's a bad one," Katie said tearfully. "We have to get Mama."

"I'll go get her," Red Eagle said immediately.

Elizabeth crouched down and drew Byron into her lap, rocking him. "Oh, you poor dear. You poor dear. Hurry, Red Eagle. Run," Elizabeth said, kissing her grandson's head lovingly.

Red Eagle sprinted off down the road, determined to catch up with Michaela as quickly as he could. The sun was blazing down on him and soon he was bathed in sweat and struggling to breathe himself, but he never slowed his pace. He felt like he had run for miles when he finally spotted Michaela's horse trotting around a bend.

"Dr. Mike!" he shrieked as loud as he could. "Dr. Mike! Help!"

Michaela immediately pulled back hard on the reins, startling Flash. The horse whinnied and jumped a few inches.

"Whoa, whoa," Michaela said lowly, turning Flash around to face Red Eagle. She shielded her eyes from the sun, spotting him running toward her still several hundred yards away. "Red Eagle, what's wrong?"

"It's Byron!" he cried as he reached her. He clutched his knees, leaned forward and panted exhaustedly. "It's Byron! He can't breathe! I think he's gonna die!"

Without hesitation Michaela reached down and hoisted the little boy up in front of her with strength she didn't know she had. Red Eagle grabbed the saddle horn, still trying to catch his breath. "Hold on tight," Michaela said firmly, kicking Flash with her heels and slapping her reins hard on the horses backside.

Flash whinnied and took off in a gallop back toward the homestead.

& & &

Elizabeth was beyond distraught, tears pouring down her cheeks as she stroked Byron's face. The little boy was still wheezing as hard as ever, his little chest moving up and down. His skin was chalky looking and ashen and his lips were a terrifying pale blue. He looked up at Elizabeth with glazed over eyes and focused on her.

Katie fanned his face with one of Elizabeth's fancy, expensive fans with a painting of a bird on it. The fan was ruined now from Katie holding it so tightly and dropping it in the dust a few times, and Elizabeth had never cared less in her life. She would have given up every nice thing she ever owned right then if it would help Byron breathe again.

"Don't die, Byron. Don't die," Katie whispered, sniffling and holding his hand. "Please don't die."

to be continued...


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Michaela and Flash suddenly appeared in a cloud of dust around the bend. Michaela raced her horse up to Elizabeth and jumped down. She pulled Red Eagle off her horse with one arm and grabbed her medical bag with her free hand.

Elizabeth looked up at her with sheer terror as Byron continued to wheeze in her lap. "Oh, Michaela, he's turning blue, he's turning blue. Do something! Quickly!"

Michaela couldn't remember ever seeing her mother so out of control. Having had five active little girls, it took a lot to faze Elizabeth Quinn. If anything Josef had always been the one to panic when Michaela or one of her sisters had showed up with the occasional bump or bruise or cut that required some stitches. But to see her grandson like this was obviously too much for Elizabeth, and she was all but helpless.

Michaela crouched beside Byron and tore through her bag, finding a cloth and her carbolic acid. She pulled off the cork with her teeth, dumped the carbolic acid on the cloth, spilling a lot of it on the ground and her hands in the process, and pressed the cloth firmly over the little boy's mouth and nose.

"Take short, short breaths," Michaela said. "Little breaths. Mother, hold the cloth. Katie, keep fanning his face."

Elizabeth tried to compose herself and pressed the cloth against the little boy's mouth. "Oh, please, Michaela. Please help him."

Michaela raised his arms in the air and rubbed his back. "Little breaths, sweetheart. Little breaths. Good boy."

Byron slowly stopped heaving so much as he tried to listen to his mother. He could feel his air passages gradually relaxing as he inhaled the sweet smelling chloroform. Katie sniffled and held his hand as tears dripped slowly down her cheeks.

Red Eagle joined them and instinctively rubbed Byron's chest. "Éévap éve otse," he whispered soothingly. "Éévap éve otse."

"All right, no more," Michaela said, removing the cloth from his face. "Just breath slowly now. Good, sweetheart. Good."

For several minutes they all sat with the little boy and held him as Red Eagle rubbed his chest and continued to speak calming words in Cheyenne. Byron closed his eyes and rested against Michaela, focusing intently on each breath as she kissed him and held him comfortingly.

"It's gone," Byron whispered at last, letting out a big sigh of relief and opening his eyes. "It's better now."

Michaela drew him into her arms in a tight hug. "Oh, my darling. Oh, I'm sorry. Was it the hay?"

"I thought he was gonna die like Jack," Katie whispered, rubbing her tears.

"Shh, shh, no he's fine," Michaela said, caressing the little boy's face. "Oh, what was I thinking sending you around all that hay? I know how it bothers you."

"It makes my eyes itch," Byron whispered.

She kissed him guiltily. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It's just been so long since you've had an attack. You've been in and out of the barn dozens of times. I didn't even think."

"That was the worst one he ever had," Katie whispered, leaning forward and kissing her brother's cheek sympathetically.

"Oh, that was terrifying," Elizabeth said, sitting back exhaustedly and pressing her hand to her heart. "Thank goodness he's all right. Thank goodness you got here in time, Michaela!"

Michaela put her arm around Red Eagle. "He came to get me. He ran over a mile to find me."

Elizabeth looked at the little boy with gratitude. "You saved Byron's life, Red Eagle. If Michaela hadn't gotten back here in time…"

"I had to help," Red Eagle replied with a shrug. "He's nâhtataneme. My brother."

"Nâh-tata-me," Byron repeated, looking up at Red Eagle with appreciation.

Red Eagle knelt down and hugged him tightly. "Nâhtataneme," he repeated reverently.

& & &

Elizabeth yanked hard on the strings of Michaela's corset.

Michaela grimaced, holding onto her bedpost for support. "That's too tight, Mother."

"It's a corset, it's supposed to be tight!" Elizabeth replied.

"I'm supposed to be able to breathe, too."

Elizabeth loosened the strings a little and tied them in a neat bow. "There. Well, at least I got you to wear this. You never did like them growing up. You horrified your sisters and I that day you tried to leave for medical school without any."

Michaela lifted her elaborate light blue gown off the bed. "I still don't like them. But I suppose it's a special occasion." She slipped the gown carefully over her ringlets and Elizabeth helped her do up the clasps in the back and smooth it out. Michaela looked at her reflection in the mirror a moment, then turned to face Elizabeth timidly.

"Oh, you're stunning, Michaela," Elizabeth said wistfully. She stepped forward and clasped her hands. "Let's have a good time tonight. Enjoy ourselves."

Michaela hesitated. "I don't know. Perhaps I should stay home with Byron."

"Michaela, don't use that as an excuse. He's just fine now. I suppose you're just going to have to keep him out of the barn from now on. Now you're coming to this dance and that's the end of it."

"I still don't know if I'm ready to go back to all this," Michaela replied softly. "I don't know if this is….right."

"It's been three months, Michaela. It's time," Elizabeth said reassuringly.

& & &

Sully drew Michaela close and tried not to step on her toes as they danced to the waltz. She was gazing up at him blissfully, all smiles. He knew how much she loved to dance, and even if he felt a little clumsy, he was happy to do whatever it took to see her spirits so high.

Preston eyed the couple as he sipped his punch. "She parades that child around town as if she's proud of it," he remarked with distain. "I'm surprised she didn't bring him here tonight to show everyone."

"He's done nothin' but cause trouble," Loren remarked, Elizabeth grasping his arm as he ladled some punch into a glass for the Reverend who stood beside him. "Now Dr. Mike's got the Freedmen Bureau riled up, too. Who knows what's next."

"Apparently Hattie Randolph was a woman of rather loose morals," Preston added. "I heard she was having relations with two or three of those Indians up there, probably had some more half breed illegitimates we don't know about."

"Oh, good gracious," Elizabeth breathed.

"Preston, I'm not sure it's very appropriate to be speaking about the dead," the Reverend said.

"You counseled her before she died, didn't you, Reverend?" Preston replied. "What would you say about her character?"

"I would say she was a woman with a very strong faith who raised a nice young man, and that Michaela and Sully are very generous to take him in as their own despite his past."

"He's an Indian and a bastard, Reverend," Preston said with a chuckle. "You can't tell me you want someone like him coming to church every Sunday and going to school and intermingling with the good children of this town."

The Reverend sighed. "Preston, the truth is I'm not very fond of all this either. But I'm not going to ask Michaela and Sully to keep him hidden away at home. They're adopting him for heaven sake. I think we're all just going to have to get used to this somehow."

"What do you say, Mrs. Quinn?" Preston asked with an amused grin. "Enjoying having a little half breed savage for a grandson?"

"Well, I don't know about that," she replied.

"Perhaps your daughter is looking to ease her grief by taking in a stray. Perhaps what's happened has colored her good judgment," he remarked, sipping his punch.

"Pardon me, but there's nothing wrong with my daughter's judgment," Elizabeth said defensively.

"I'm only pointing out her taste for those of less…respectable backgrounds than ourselves has led her down a very precarious path."

"Whatever her reasons, Michaela is none of your business, Mr. Lodge," Elizabeth retorted. "And I'll thank all of you to keep your opinions to yourself."

Loren looked at her dumbfounded. "But you said yourself you want them to take him back to that orphanage. That this whole thing is a disaster!"

"Yes, well, I was the one saying that!" Elizabeth replied as the waltz ended and the band began another. "That half breed savage as you call him saved Byron's life today. He ran over a mile to find Michaela when Byron was having a very serious asthma attack. My grandson owes his life to him. Loren, let's dance."

Loren looked at Preston helplessly as Elizabeth took his arm and led him to the dance floor just as Sully and Michaela walked toward the punch bowl holding hands.

"Good to be dancin' again, huh?" Sully remarked.

She smiled elatedly. "I'm so glad we came."

"Reverend," Sully said as he filled a punch glass for Michaela. "Preston."

"Evenin'," the Reverend said quietly.

"Good evening," Preston echoed uncomfortably. "You're looking lovely tonight, Michaela." He suddenly turned and walked away without another word.

Sully handed Michaela her glass and she took a long drink.

"Must be thirsty after all the dancin'," he remarked, watching her lovingly.

She nodded, finishing off the punch and lowering her glass. He chuckled at a trace of punch clinging to her upper lip and smoothed it away with his thumb, giving her a discreet kiss.

"Miss Teresa's sittin' by herself over there," he remarked, glancing across the room. "Why don't ya go talk to her?"

"What about?" she replied, blinking.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Think of somethin.'"

Michaela glanced across the room. Teresa was sitting on a bench, looking a little lost, while Jake played with the band. Michaela had to admit she wasn't very eager to chat with her. But Sully was right, the polite thing to do would be to at least greet the children's teacher.

"All right," she replied, handing him her empty glass.

Sully watched her make her away around the dancers as he refilled her glass and took a drink himself.

"Havin' fun, Reverend?" he asked.

"Oh, of course," the Reverend replied with a smile. "It's good to know the young folks are enjoying themselves."

"And some of us older folks," he replied with a grin. "Can I get ya some more punch?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm glad Michaela's here. I wasn't sure she would come. This is good for her."

"I think so, too. She's been wantin' to dance to every song until we got so thirsty we had to stop," he replied, taking another sip of punch.

"Well, that's wonderful. We could all use a little exertion."

"Dr. Quinn. Good evening," Teresa said courteously as Michaela approached.

"Jake's been so busy playing with the band I imagine you've been rather lonely," Michaela remarked, sitting beside her.

"He promised me he could get away for a few dances later," she replied. "And where are Byron and Katie tonight?"

"Byron and Katie and Red Eagle are at home with Dorothy this time."

"Oh, yes. The Indian child. It seems he's all Byron can talk about lately."

"Yes, well, they've become the best of friends. And now they're brothers."

"You realize he's not associating with the other children at school now that that half breed is living at your home."

She shrugged. "He's always found it hard to make friends. He can be so shy. But Red Eagle accepts Byron for who he is. And Byron accepts him back. They were made for each other."

"I assume you received my notes," Teresa replied. "Yet I did not hear back from you."

"Notes? Oh. Well, I'm not very concerned about that. I'm helping him with his arithmetic every evening and I'm sure he'll be fine."

Teresa eyed her impatiently. "I'm afraid you're not taking this as seriously as I am, Dr. Quinn. Byron is in danger of failing. If I don't see improvement soon he won't move on with the other children his age at the end of the term."

"Mrs. Slicker, it's just a phase. You can't fail him for that."

"I can and I will," she retorted. "I will not be told how to run my schoolhouse."

"You don't seem to appreciate it's the town council that runs the school, not you," Michaela spat back. "I don't think you should hold any child back without the consent of his parents, and moreover you do not have a say in who can come through those doors."

"You're still angry I won't allow Mark to attend. That's what this is about."

"It's Red Eagle," Michaela retorted. "And don't think I'm not going to take this to the council, Mrs. Slicker. Once I get their approval it won't matter what you think. You'll have to admit him or lose your job."

"I will not be fired because of you!" Mrs. Slicker said vehemently, standing up.

Michaela stood up with her. "Mrs. Slicker, I don't want you fired. That's not what I meant. But when a student comes to your door in need of an education, I would expect the proper thing to do would be to admit him without question."

"You talk to me about the proper thing to do when you couldn't even mourn for more than a few months." She gestured at her elaborate gown. "Why are you dressed like this? Where are your mourning clothes? Why are you not at home mourning? You shame your baby, your Jack!"

Stunned, Michaela backed up a step. She struggled to speak. "Don't ever bring my son up again," she finally whispered, turning around and looking anxiously for Sully. She spotted him by the punch bowl, chatting with the Reverend.

"That was quick," he said as she approached him. "Wanna dance again?"

"I want to go home," she murmured.

He suddenly noticed her forlorn expression. "What's the matter?"

"Please, Sully. I need to go home right now."

He put his arm around her. "Yeah, sure. Let's just get your ma."

& & &

"You know how she can be when ya provoke her," Sully said. "She's got a hot temper, says things she shouldn't." He laid his hand on Michaela's shoulder.

Michaela gazed at her mirror and wiped the rouge from her lips with a handkerchief, not replying.

"She's worried about her job, and I don't blame her. Times are tough for everybody."

"I don't know why you're taking her side," Michaela finally said.

"Michaela, she went too far bringin' up Jack. She never lost a child. She don't know what we're goin' through, and she's got no right to question ya." He squeezed her shoulder. "But we shoulda been talkin' to her about Byron. We ignored those notes she sent."

"No we didn't. I read them."

"So did I. But we did nothin' when we shoulda at least gone to talk to Teresa. I can see why she's frustrated."

She sighed. "This is turning out to be much more complicated than I thought. Sully, the truth is I'm afraid to go to the council. I'm afraid I won't be able to persuade them."

"So let's hold off. It's not gonna hurt him to stay out of school for awhile."

"No, I know. It's just not right, that's all."

He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, chuckling.

"What's funny?"

"I can just picture it," he replied. "It's Red Eagle!"

She chuckled despite herself. "All right. So I lost my temper a bit, too."

"Just a bit."

She gazed at her reflection. "Maybe I should take out the mourning clothes again. I'm afraid some of the women in this town are quite offended."

"You been doin' so much better with this lately. Both of us have," he said, rubbing her arm. "Michaela, you been grieving longer and harder than anybody would expect. You don't need a black dress to help ya do that."

"It's strange, I suddenly don't feel in mourning anymore," she said, grasping his hand and squeezing. "It's not that I don't miss him terribly, think about him all the time, wish things had been different. But I feel like it's all right to be happy, to enjoy life again."

"It is," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

"I know we have a long way to go. But I feel like we've been through the first part of it. The hardest part."

"We made it through. And we're gonna keep on makin' it through whatever's to come," he said resolutely.

& & &

Sully wrapped his arms around Michaela's waist from behind, startling her. She was stirring a large pot of oatmeal on the stove and getting breakfast ready for everyone for when they woke up. He kissed her neck first on one side, then the other.

"Mornin'," he murmured.

She giggled. "Stop, I'm trying to make breakfast."

"Let's go upstairs. Come on, we got time."

She slowly stopped stirring and turned. "What's gotten into you? Sully, we can't."

He caressed her face and pinned her against the counter, kissing her as he unbuttoned the first few buttons of her blouse. She immediately melted at his touch, dropping the spoon on the counter and wrapping her arms around his back.

"Come on, real quick," he whispered, planting a row of kisses across her cheek and down her neck.

"Well, perhaps we could," she whispered back timidly. "If we hurry."

He grinned, pleased with himself, and reached his hand up to caress her breast as he kissed her again. She couldn't help but let out a soft cry of pleasure.

"Mm, yes, let's go," she said hoarsely.

"Where ya going?" Red Eagle asked timidly, standing in the doorway in his nightshift.

Sully immediately stepped back, letting out a big sigh. "Red Eagle, how long ya been standin' there?"

He scratched his nose timidly. "I don't know."

"Don't do that, all right?" Sully told him.

Red Eagle backed up a step, baffled. "I'm sorry, Sully," he whispered. "Just wanted to see what you were doing. Dr. Mike made a funny noise."

"Go upstairs and get dressed, sweetheart," Michaela said, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she rebuttoned her blouse.

He immediately turned and ran up the stairs.

"He's just curious, Sully," Michaela said. "You have to remember he's never had a pa. He doesn't understand any of this. He doesn't know the first thing about the birds and the bees."

He sighed. "Still oughta know not to be watchin' us like that."

She looked up at him wryly. "I don't like that face you're making. I don't want to kiss you when you look like that."

He smiled softly. "This any better?"

She smiled back and grasped his hand.

Elizabeth entered the kitchen, dressed for the day. "What's the matter with Red Eagle? He just raced past me without so much as a good morning."

They broke apart again and Michaela looked at her mother guiltily.

"Now what?" Elizabeth said with a sigh. "What happened?"

"Nothing. He saw us kissing, that's all," she explained.

"Oh, good gracious," Elizabeth breathed, taking down a stack of plates and putting them on the table. "The poor thing's probably traumatized."

"He's not traumatized, Mother," Michaela said, turning back to the stove and stirring the oatmeal.

"If he is it's your own fault," Elizabeth retorted. "You two have no sense of modesty. Your father and I would never dream of carrying on in front of you and your sisters that way. No wonder the little dear's upset."

"We didn't know he was watchin', Elizabeth," Sully spoke up.

"Besides, there's nothing wrong with our children knowing their parents love each other, Mother," Michaela added. "It's not so terrible if they notice us kissing or hugging from time to time."

"I suspect you were doing a lot more than that," Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes. She opened the drawer and gathered some silverware.

"This is all just so new to him," Michaela explained. "We all have to be patient. He's never been around a married couple. He lived all alone with his mother his whole life. He probably doesn't know what to make of us."

Elizabeth chuckled, placing the silverware around the table. "Well, he's not the only one!"

"I better start the chores," Sully murmured. He placed his hand on Michaela's back and gave her a gentle kiss. "Save me some breakfast."

"I will," she replied, smiling softly.

Elizabeth watched him go and shook her head as she continued to set the table.

Michaela glanced at her. "Mother, it's good for him to have parents in a healthy relationship."

"I would hardly call you and Sully healthy right now," Elizabeth chastised. "You're shouting at each other constantly."

"We don't shout," she retorted. "We're just trying to work this out, that's all. This is a very difficult situation that's going to have its ups and downs."

"More downs than ups, Michaela," Elizabeth remarked critically.

& & &

"I've been seeing a lot of hay fever the past few weeks," Michaela said as she opened the door and guided Hank outside. "I hope it won't last too much longer."

"Stinging nettles usually do the trick," Hank replied, holding up the packet of herbs that Michaela had given him and sniffling. He glanced at Red Eagle, sitting solemnly on the bench outside with his reader. "He needs a haircut," he remarked.

"You're one to be talking about haircuts, Hank," Michaela replied.

"So they won't let him go to school, huh." He folded his arms. "You know, you could always bring him by the saloon when ya get busy with a patient. He's old enough to empty the spittoons. I'd pay him. What do you think of that, son?"

Red Eagle looked up at him timidly.

"No, Hank, absolutely not," Michaela retorted. "He's seven years old! He can't be wandering around a saloon."

"Just tryin' to help. Did my Zach a lot of good to be put to work," Hank said, sniffling again. "Seems pretty boring for him to sit around your clinic all day while you see patients." He cleared his throat, lowering his voice. "Michaela, there ain't gonna be much for him to do once he grows up. He's not going to be a doctor. It might be good for him to learn how to do some hard work early on."

"Well, I thank you for your concern, but Sully and I have different plans," she replied.

"You always did. Afternoon," he replied, stepping down from her porch and walking back across the street.

Michaela shook her head and sighed deeply, sitting beside Red Eagle.

"That's Hank," she explained. "Sometimes he can come up with very….interesting ideas."

Red Eagle stared at his reader, working hard to hold back tears. Michaela suddenly noticed his upset.

"Sweetheart, what's the matter? Don't worry, I'd never make you work in the saloon. I don't want you to work at all until you're much, much older."

"I don't care about that. I just want to do this lesson," he explained tearfully, pointing at a word. "But I can't make all these words out. They're so hard."

She grasped one end of the book. "Oh, that is a hard one. That says sphere. Do you know what a sphere is?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Well, it's something round, like a globe."

"Like if I draw a circle?" he whispered.

"No, not exactly. It has to be three dimensional." She sighed. "I was never very good at explaining this sort of thing."

His tears resumed. "I don't get this. I need Miss Grace."

She put his arm around him pensively. "Yes….What time is it?"

"I don't know. I can't tell time yet. Miss Grace said she was gonna teach me that next."

"I think it's about one. If I take you to Shantytown right now you could still get in a few hours with Miss Grace. She could help you with those words"

"But they said I couldn't come back!" he exclaimed. "They had a meeting!"

"I know that. But your schooling is important. I'm not going to let one meeting stop you from getting an education."

"Sully said no," he murmured.

She bit her lip. "Well, we'll keep it a secret. Just for the time being. I'll take you back if you promise not to tell anyone."

"I promise, I promise," he said eagerly. "Anything so I can go to school."

"Well, let's go then," she said with a smile, hugging him.

& & &

Grace held her pointer in her hand and looked out at her students. It was almost four o'clock and most of them were getting tired and impatient to go home.

"Who knows what year General Cornwallis surrendered?" Grace asked.

Red Eagle shot his hand up eagerly. None of the other students bothered to raise their hands.

"Yes, Mark?"

"Seventeen eighty-one," he said.

"Very good. And do you know where?"

"Yes, ma'am. Yorktown."

"Very good," she said with a smile.

"Smarty pants," one of the boys behind him whispered.

Red Eagle ignored him and looked down at his history book.

Grace put her pointer on her desk. "All right, that's enough for today. Most of you need a lot more work on your dates. I want you to read chapters three and four again tonight and study hard. There's gonna be a test next time. You're dismissed."

Red Eagle spotted Michaela pulling the wagon up nearby. He quickly gathered his slate and books and ran to her. Michaela climbed down and enveloped him in a tight hug. He hugged her just as tightly and looked up at her with a big smile.

Michaela kissed his head, relieved to see his beaming face again. "I missed you around the clinic this afternoon. How was school?"

"Guess what we learned about today, Dr. Mike!"

"What?"

"There was this big war before any of us were born because we didn't want England to be the boss of us anymore and we fought these men called redcoats and we won and now we can make all our own laws!"

She boosted him up onto the wagon seat. "Slow down, you can tell me about it on the way home," she said with a chuckle.

Eyes narrowed, Jerome watched Michaela and Red Eagle ride out of Shantytown, his schoolbooks slung over his shoulder. He suddenly turned and jogged down the road to his father's shack on the edge of town.

"Pa! Pa!" he called as he got closer. "Pa, come quick!"

"What you yellin' 'bout, boy?" Carl shouted, storming out of his house clutching a nearly empty bottle of whiskey.

"That injun half breed done come back to our school today, Pa!" he explained. "Dr. Mike done brought him back!"

Carl looked down at him angrily. "She did, huh?" He turned around and walked back inside.

"What ya gonna do, Pa?" Jerome asked, trailing closely behind him.

Carl found his pistol and a box of bullets on the mantle. "Never you mind. Git inside, study your books."

"Oh, come on, Pa. Let me come with ya, help ya teach 'em a lesson. I'll teach them to mind their own business and stay away from us and our school."

"You sit at the table and don't you move an inch until I get back, boy," Carl ordered, walking outside.

"Yes, sir," Jerome muttered, sinking into a chair and dropping his books on the table.

to be continued...


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"The last big battle was the Battle of Yorktown," Red Eagle said enthusiastically. "That was in 1781. George Washington surrounded the British army and forced them to surrender." He quickly took a breath. "Then in 1783 they signed this thing called the Treaty of Paris."

Michaela smiled at his fervor as she held the reins loosely and allowed the horse to bring the wagon home at his own pace. She had never known a child so eager to learn. "Sounds like you did quite a bit in school today."

"I love history. And arithmetic. And reading." He giggled. "There's no subject I don't like."

"That's wonderful. I liked school too when I was your age. I loved to read about new things."

He hugged her waist. "Thank you for bringing me back, Dr. Mike. Miss Grace is the best teacher. Can you help me with my homework? She gave me a lot."

"Of course. As soon as we get home. Perhaps you and Katie and Byron can all do your homework together," she said, glancing behind her as she heard two riders galloping swiftly toward the wagon. She quickly recognized them as Carl and one of the other men from Shantytown who had visited the homestead. Nervously, she pulled back on the reins, slowing the horse to a stop.

"What're they doin', Dr. Mike?" Red Eagle asked, swallowing.

"Hush, let me talk to them. Don't say anything," she said firmly.

Carl pulled back hard on his reins and his horse whinnied. "Dr. Mike. We just heard you brought him back to school. Thought we told you not to do that."

Michaela took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I believe strongly his education is important and I'm not going to back down that easily."

"Get down from the wagon," Carl spat back, dismounting.

"What? No," she said fearfully. "Move aside and we'll be on our way."

"Get down!" he shouted, withdrawing his revolver from his belt and pointing it at her. "The boy, too!"

Startled, she climbed down, reaching her arms up for Red Eagle. "Come on, sweetheart," she murmured.

"What's happening?" he whispered.

"Be quiet," she replied, lifting him to the ground.

"Take the boy, John," Carl instructed.

Michaela quickly held Red Eagle tightly to his side. "No. No, don't touch him! Leave him out of this!"

Carl held Michaela's arm firmly and John grabbed Red Eagle, prying him from her. Red Eagle screamed, terrified.

"No, what are you doing?!" Michaela cried. "Let him go!"

Carl pushed her violently against the wagon, wrapping one hand around her neck. Michaela smelled alcohol on his breath. "We gave you fair warnin', Dr. Mike. We was real polite, I thought." He grabbed her breast with his other hand and pressed his brow to hers. "Maybe we'll make him watch while me and Johnny take turns with ya."

Red Eagle watched in utter confusion. "No, don't touch her like that! You're hurting her!"

"Go on, Carl. Give it to her good," John said, holding Red Eagle's head firmly so he couldn't look away. "I'll make him watch."

Michaela closed her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks. "Please. Please."

John laughed ardently as Red Eagle struggled to break free from his grasp.

"Leave her alone!" Red Eagle shouted fiercely. "Leave my mama alone!"

"Your mama, huh," Carl said, eyeing Michaela. "Which filthy Injun have you been laying down with?"

"I won't take him back to school," Michaela said desperately. "I promise. Please, please don't hurt him. Please let him go. Please. I won't take him back."

"We see you or the boy around Shantytown again, and we'll make good on all this." He struck her hard across the face, drawing blood from her lip.

Carl pushed her against the wagon again and walked briskly to his horse. "Come on, John."

John shoved Red Eagle toward Michaela and the men mounted their horses and galloped back in the direction they came from.

"Dr. Mike!" Red Eagle cried, running to her and throwing his arms around her.

"Oh, oh," she murmured, holding him tight and rocking him. "Are you all right? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine but they hurt your lip!" he said tearfully.

She pressed her hand to it and looked at the blood on her fingers. "It's all right. Just a little."

"This is my fault," he said despondently. "This is all my fault."

"No, hush, none of this is your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I wish I had a gun. I'd go after them and kill them."

"Red Eagle, don't say that."

"I'm tellin' Sully. He'll go after 'em."

"No. No, don't tell Sully. He's going to be furious I brought you back to school."

"I don't care what you say, I'm tellin' him," he said firmly.

"All right, all right. I'll tell him," she replied reluctantly.

& & &

Elizabeth worked at pealing several carrots for a stew as Sully chopped up some celery. Katie and Byron were sitting at the dining room table doing their arithmetic and Brian was sitting beside them reading, occasionally pausing to help them when they got stuck on a problem.

"Michaela's running late," Elizabeth remarked. "I hope she's not held up with a patient."

"I'm just happy she's back workin'," Sully replied. "Wasn't too long ago she was talkin' about closin' the clinic."

"What made her decide to go back?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

He put a handful of celery into the pot. "Red Eagle's ma, actually. She had cancer and Dr. Cook came by and convinced Michaela to come take a look."

"The poor girl. I can't believe she didn't have any other family or friends she could turn to."

"Her pa disowned her. And she said friends were pretty scarce once Red Eagle was born."

Elizabeth shook her head. "You and Michaela aren't going to have any friends either before you know it."

"If we don't, they weren't really friends," Sully said sensibly.

Michaela opened the door, holding Red Eagle's hand.

"Sorry we're late," she called softly.

"That's all right. We're just startin' supper," Sully replied, glancing at her as he continued to chop. He stopped short and looked up again, suddenly noticing Michaela's split lip and Red Eagle's shaken expression.

"What happened?" he said, putting down the knife and walking briskly to them.

Elizabeth quickly followed him. "Michaela, you're bleeding!" she exclaimed.

Michaela put her medical bag on the table as Brian and the children abandoned their reading and homework and joined them.

"I took him back to the Shantytown school this afternoon," she explained gingerly.

"Ya what?" Sully breathed, brow narrowing.

"Michaela, what were you thinking?!" Elizabeth replied.

"I know, it was foolish. Especially after they had a meeting specifically about him. But you should have seen him today. He was in tears over his reader because he couldn't make out a word. I couldn't bear to keep him out."

"I told Dr. Mike I'd keep it a secret," Red Eagle spoke up hoarsely. "I'm sorry, Sully."

"That don't explain how that happened," Sully said impatiently, nodding at her lip.

"We ran into Carl and John on the way home," she explained carefully. "They were angry, understandably so."

"They had guns," Red Eagle added.

Sully didn't wait for any more explanations. He grabbed his coat and belt off the rack and walked out the door.

"Where's Papa goin', Mama?" Katie spoke up.

Michaela nudged Red Eagle toward Elizabeth. "Mother, could you get him something to drink? He's had a long day."

"Of course," Elizabeth said, grasping the little boy's shoulder and leading him to the kitchen.

Michaela followed Sully outside where he was quickly buckling his belt in front of the wagon.

"Sully, wait!" she called, hurrying down the stairs.

"They threaten you?" he replied, whipping around.

Startled by the anger in his eyes, she backed up a step. "I'm sorry. I went behind your back taking him to school."

"Yeah, ya did," he muttered.

"It was an impulse decision," she said.

"He's gonna be our child now, you and me gotta agree on what's best for him." He rested one arm up on the wagon. "We never made an important decision about our own kids without talkin' it over together."

"I thought you'd forbid it. I knew how you felt."

"Michaela, I was just afraid somethin' like this would happen. It ain't that I don't think he should go to school. But I saw how angry Carl and his friend were the other night. When men like that get pushed enough there's no tellin' what they might do."

"They were drunk," she replied hoarsely. "They pulled a gun on us, made us get down from the wagon and then took Red Eagle away from me. I know they were just trying to frighten me into never bringing him back." She let out a small sigh. "It worked I suppose."

He gripped her shoulder. "Hey, you all right?"

"I thought for a moment they were going to…" She trailed off, too upset to voice her true fears.

He immediately drew her into a tight hug and kissed her head.

"Please don't go after them," she whispered. "We're only going to make it worse for him if we draw this out."

"Carl or any of his friends come near you or the boy again, I'm takin' this into my own hands."

"It won't happen again. I promise," she said resolutely.

"Let's get back inside, put somethin' on your lip," he said, wrapping his arm around her and guiding her back up the stairs.

& & &

Michaela entered Byron's room, buttoning up the top buttons of her bathrobe against the chill.

"Did you say your prayers?" she asked, walking to the bureau and finding two extra blankets.

"Yep," Byron said.

Red Eagle didn't reply. He was on his back on his cot, silently hugging his stuffed bear.

Michaela spread one of the blankets on top of Red Eagle, then leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you."

Red Eagle just hugged his bear tighter and continued to look up at the ceiling.

Michaela spread the second blanket on top of Byron's bedspread and then leaned over the bed, gazing at him lovingly.

"Can Mama have some cuddles?" she asked.

Byron smiled and immediately held his arms out. Michaela got in bed with him and snuggled him against her, kissing his cheek several times as he giggled.

"It's cold tonight. I gave you each an extra blanket. But let us know if you need more."

"Think it's gonna rain tonight, Mama?" Byron asked.

"I don't know. Your papa says it might. I hope so. My garden really needs it. If it doesn't perhaps the two of you could help me water it tomorrow." She stroked his hair and kissed him again. "I love your soft cheeks. Don't ever grow a beard!"

"Don't worry, I won't," he vowed.

Michaela glanced at Red Eagle, who was laying quietly by himself ignoring them.

"Red Eagle, come have some cuddles with us," Michaela invited.

"Yeah. Come on, Red Eagle," Byron called.

Red Eagle closed his eyes and turned his back to them.

Michaela glanced at him a moment, concerned. But it had been a hard few weeks for the little boy, and she couldn't blame him if all he wanted to do was get some rest.

"That's all right. Night-night," Michaela called softly.

"Night-night," Byron echoed.

Red Eagle let out a soft sigh and didn't reply, pretending to be asleep.

& & &

Michaela fished a scalpel out of the carbolic acid and dried it with a towel. Red Eagle was waiting on her bench, looking out the window solemnly. She knew it had been another long day for the little boy at the clinic, but she wouldn't be able to leave for at least a few more hours until she was assured her patient upstairs with stable.

"We'll go home soon," she called quietly. "Red Eagle? Are you all right, sweetheart?"

He glanced at her and shrugged.

She glanced down at her apron. A large stain of fresh blood marked her chest and she reached behind her to remove the apron. "You're a little pale. Does the blood bother you? It's all right if it does."

He shrugged again and looked back out the window with a sigh as someone rang the bell.

Michaela rolled up her apron loosely and dropped it in her laundry basket, then walked to the door and answered it.

"Oh, Andrew," she said with a smile.

He tipped his hat, a few medical journals tucked under his arm. "Afternoon, Michaela. Are you busy?"

"Nothing like a little routine appendicitis on a Friday afternoon," she replied with a smile. "Margaret Hennessey's little girl. She's upstairs resting and doing just fine."

"Oh, that's good. I brought by some of that new research I was telling you about on that cholera vaccine."

"Oh, wonderful. I can't wait to look at it. Please, come in." She guided him inside and shut the door. "Red Eagle, it's Dr. Cook Can you say good afternoon?."

"Afternoon, Red Eagle," Andrew said politely, putting the medical journals on Michaela's desk. "The tests Dr. Pasteur has performed look very promising. I think we're about to see the end of cholera."

Michaela opened one of the journals and flipped through it. "Good. I want to start giving it out to patients as soon as we think it's safe."

"Well, after looking at these findings I would fully endorse that," Andrew said, removing his hat. He suddenly noticed the nasty cut on her lip. "Michaela, what happened? You're hurt."

She briefly touched her lip, embarrassed. "Oh, that's nothing."

"You looked like you were socked in the mouth," he said in disbelief.

"Well, the truth is I ran into some men from Shantytown the other day. They were upset about Red Eagle going to their school. We had a little confrontation."

"Oh, no. I heard there was some trouble brewing out there. We've coexisted with those people for years. Hate to see things break down now."

"They won't. I'm doing what they say and I'm not going to bring him back to school."

"Well, it's for the best," he murmured.

"I'm hungry," Red Eagle spoke up. "Could I go ask Miss Grace for a cookie?"

"All right, but don't bother her if she's busy," Michaela said.

Red Eagle quickly ran out and slammed the door behind him.

Michaela sighed. "I'm sorry, he's usually so friendly and talkative. I think the blood bothers him."

"How's he doing? Do you think he's happy with you and Sully?" Andrew asked.

"I don't know. I think so. But all this with the Shantytown school has been hard on him."

"You can always take him back to the orphanage. Nothing's permanent yet."

"Not you, too, Andrew."

"Michaela, I don't think Hattie meant you to feel you had to take him in yourself. We barely knew the woman before she passed away. I'm sure she realized deep down eventually it might come to an orphanage."

"And I never intended to take him in myself. But things changed."

"He's not the first orphan we've encountered, he probably won't be the last. As doctors we see this sort of thing all the time. Often it's our duty to do difficult things like placing a child in an orphanage."

"But what about my duty as a person, Andrew?" Michaela replied. "I know there's hundreds of orphans out there. But Red Eagle's special. I met him at the saddest, most darkest moment in my life. He brought me out of that darkness."

"Well, I understand you've got quite an attachment to him," he said. "And I think he's been very good for you, probably has helped you recover after Jack died."

"This isn't just about me. It's about the child, what Sully and I could do for him, for his future."

He folded his arms, shaking his head. "Michaela, face it. He's a half breed. What future?"

"A future he's never going to have a chance at if I send him back to that orphanage," she replied solemnly. "Andrew, he needs someone to believe in him. I know living with us is ultimately what's best for him, come what may."

"Well, I hope you're right. For all your sakes," he replied.

& & &

Michaela finished towel drying Katie's hair as she, Elizabeth and Sully gathered in the kitchen to orchestrate the Saturday night baths. Red Eagle and Byron were waiting their turn nearby.

"Byron, you're next," Michaela called as she helped Katie button up her nightgown.

"I don't want a bath," Byron protested, approaching the tub. "I'm not dirty."

"Oh yes you are, young man," Elizabeth told him. "Now get out of those filthy clothes and into the water."

Sully picked up Katie and sat her in his lap. "Ya smell like flowers, Kates," he said, nuzzling her neck. She giggled and hugged him.

"I'm not dirty, Gran'ma, I promise," Byron insisted.

Elizabeth sighed, pushing up her sleeves further. "Come now, Byron, you need to behave. If your mother's going to have a baby you're all going to have to start cooperating better."

"Mother, we weren't going to tell them," Michaela said sternly.

"Well, why not? They know everything else that goes on around here."

"Mama, you're having a baby?" Byron asked with surprise, reluctantly unbuttoning his shirt and stepping out of his trousers. "Oh, no, you're gonna get fat again!"

She chuckled and gave him a hand into the tub. "No, I'm not having a baby. Not yet. We'll all have to cross our fingers."

Elizabeth massaged soap into Byron's hair as he tried to cross his fingers on both hands.

"Well, I have a feeling you will eventually and when you do I've decided on the perfect name for him. Ainsley," Elizabeth said resolutely.

"Ainsley?" Michaela repeated, screwing up her face in disgust as she scrubbed Byron's back with the bar of lye. "Oh, Mother, that's dreadful."

Elizabeth looked at Sully for support. "You like it, don't you?"

"Sounds kinda girly to me," Sully remarked.

Elizabeth eyed him intrepidly. "It just so happens Ainsley Quinn was Michaela's great great grandfather and a wealthy nobleman in Ireland. Practically royalty. He was not 'girly' by any means."

"If you say so," Sully said skeptically.

Red Eagle timidly bit his lip as he silently watched everyone chatter happily.

Katie pinched her nose. "It's yucky, Gran'ma!"

"Where we gonna put the new baby, Mama?" Byron asked, suds clinging to his nose. "There's no room in my room now that Red Eagle's here. We better hope it's a girl so she can go with Katie. We're gettin' crowded!"

"That's exactly what I keep saying, Byron," Elizabeth said, shaking her head.

"I don't know. We haven't thought about all this too much," Michaela admitted.

"You never think about these things," Elizabeth remarked.

Michaela glanced at her with a sigh. "We'll work all this out. But he'll sleep in our room for awhile like Jack did. Then we'll figure out what to do next."

"Mama?" Katie whispered. "The new baby won't die like Jack did, will he?"

Sully kissed her head reassuringly. "No, Kates," he whispered.

Michaela gazed at her lovingly. "Sweetheart, what happened to Jack doesn't happen very often, fortunately. I saw my doctor a few weeks back and he said I'm perfectly healthy and if I have a baby he thinks he'll probably be healthy too and do just fine. Just like you and Byron were."

Katie smiled softly, reassured. "I want a new sister. We have enough boys around here."

Michaela chuckled. "I suppose we do."

"I still want a brother," Byron remarked as Elizabeth rinsed his head with cupfuls of water. "And I want him to look like me."

"I'm sure he will, and be as darling as you were as a baby, so pale and with little pink lips just like Michaela when she was an infant. Oh, you were such a Quinn," Elizabeth said proudly.

Michaela smiled reverently. "You should have seen all the hair you had when you were born, Byron. I couldn't believe it. It was long, too."

"Maybe I already wanted long hair like Papa," Byron said with a wide smile.

She laughed and kissed him. "All right, Mr. Sully. Out of the tub so Red Eagle can get in before the water gets too cool." She lifted him out of the tub with an exaggerated groan and glanced at Red Eagle. "Come on. Your turn."

Red Eagle remained where he was, staring pensively at the floor.

Michaela wrapped Byron in a towel and rubbed his back vigorously as he shivered. "Red Eagle, come on. It's getting late and all the adults still have to bathe too."

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered, quietly stepping forward and unbuttoning his shirt.

& & &

The children had all gone to bed and Sully was straightening up the sitting room as Michaela bustled around the kitchen. She opened the root cellar door and climbed down, returning a moment later with an apron full of apples.

Sully tossed a few stray pillows onto a chair, glancing at her. "What ya doing?"

"Just thought I would bring up some apples," she replied, carrying them to the kitchen. "I thought we could have them with our picnic after church tomorrow."

He followed her into the kitchen. "Maybe we should stay home tomorrow. Have a picnic here."

"What? Why?"

"The Reverend ain't happy about us bringin' Red Eagle there every Sunday."

She opened a large picnic basket and emptied the apples into it. "Yes I know. And I already discussed this with him. He'll have to drag us out if he feels that strongly about it."

"Michaela, you know how I feel about raising that boy Christian," he murmured.

"I thought we've been through this," she said with a sigh.

"I just think maybe I could stay home with him this Sunday. I could teach him some about the Cheyenne."

"He's Crow, not Cheyenne," she replied, opening a drawer and taking out several forks. "You know as well as I the Indians are an incredibly diverse people."

"I still think it's for his own good we teach him some about his Indian roots. I don't want to raise him thinkin' he ain't Indian. He should be proud of where he comes from."

She placed the forks in the picnic basket. "Proud? I thought the Crow and Cheyenne were enemies. I thought you and Cloud Dancing wanted nothing to do with his father, or him for that matter."

"Strikes the Bear worked for Custer. Far as me and all the Cheyenne are concerned he might as well be a murderer. He's partly responsible for what happened, and he paid for it. But the Crow are still a good people, with a long history we oughta start helpin' that boy understand and take pride in."

"I agree, but Hattie clearly wanted to teach him about her own beliefs, too," she replied.

"Well, maybe she was wrong about that," he retorted.

"She was his mother. It was her decision. Shouldn't we respect her wishes?"

"She's dead. We're his parents now. And I don't want him goin' to church."

"Sully, couldn't we compromise on this? Go to church in the morning, and then teach him something about the Indians in the afternoon?"

He crossed his arms. "It's only gonna confuse him."

"Confuse him? Don't you think he's already confused? Our town doesn't want him, the Indians don't want him. We're always quarreling over whether to raise him white or raise him Indian. And he thinks you don't love him. I see it."

He paused, taken aback. "…That ain't true. I care about him."

"Your feelings about his father are affecting your relationship with him," she said perceptively. "It's understandable you should feel torn, but you can hardly blame a seven-year-old boy for something that happened when he was a baby, for the actions of a man he never even met. Sully, he adores you. He only wants to hear that you love him, too."

"I knew this wasn't gonna work," he muttered, leaving the kitchen and grabbing his jacket. "Take him to church. Do what ya want."

"Wait, where are you going?" she replied, following him to the door.

"I need to take a walk." He opened the door and shut it behind him, leaving Michaela standing alone.

Red Eagle crept back up the stairs, rubbing away his tears. He walked back to Byron's room and over to the bureau, found his trousers and quickly put them on.

Byron roused, rubbing his eyes. "Hey, why you getting dressed? It's dark still."

"I'm runnin' away. I'm going back to Denver," he replied unsteadily.

"But how you gonna find Denver?" Byron asked in disbelief. "It's a thousand miles away! Mama has to take you! Or somebody grown up!"

"I don't need a grownup. I know it's straight North," he explained, sitting on the floor and tying his shoes. "Remember your pa taught us how to find the North Star?"

Byron scratched his head. "I guess, but…but why do you want to leave?"

"Dr. Mike and Sully don't want me," he said bravely. "They always get into fights about me."

"Oh, don't worry, they would fight anyway," Byron said helpfully. "Maybe you don't know cause you never had a pa. Mama and Papa always make up. I bet they're makin' up right now."

Red Eagle grabbed his satchel and filled it with a few shirts, his comb, and a photograph of Hattie.

"I better tell Mama," Byron said, getting out of bed.

"Don't!" Red Eagle cried. "You can't tell, Byron!"

Startled, Byron slowly got back into bed. "Red Eagle…you can't run away," he said plaintively. "You're my best friend. And my brother. Nâh-tata-me"

Red Eagle put the satchel on his shoulders and grabbed his stuffed bear by the leg. Then he walked to the bed, hugging Byron. "You're my best friend, too. But I can't live here anymore. Sully doesn't love me cause he hates my real pa so much."

Byron bent his head solemnly. "Oh. Cause he worked for Mr. Custer?"

Red Eagle swallowed hard. "Yeah. So that's why I gotta get back to that orphanage, see if they'll take me back in. Please, promise you won't tell, Byron? Best friends keep secrets."

Byron hesitated for a long moment. "I won't tell," he murmured at last.

"Thanks for being so nice to me," Red Eagle whispered as he opened the door. "The first real friend I ever had."

"Goodbye," Byron whispered sadly, hugging his knees to his chest.

to be continued...


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Michaela was almost asleep when Sully carefully opened the bedroom door and shut it behind him.

She let out a relieved sigh as he crouched down and kissed her.

"That was a long walk," she murmured.

"Just needed to get my head clear," he replied.

"Sully, I'm sorry," she said plaintively. "You were right. We should do more to teach him about the Crow people."

He caressed her cheek. "You were right, too. I been lettin' his father come between us. But I ain't gonna do that anymore. I love that boy, and from now on I'm gonna try harder to let him know that. I'm sorry ya had to do this all by yourself all this time."

"Oh, Sully. We can make this work. I know we can," she replied.

He moved in closer and kissed her sensuously while he worked at unbuttoning her nightgown. He quickly lifted it over her head and climbed into bed beside her.

She unbuttoned his shirt while he planted light kisses across her breasts and down her belly. She readily parted her legs as his kisses moved lower, arching her back and letting out a few soft cries as he fervently continued to kiss and caress her.

Suddenly he lifted his head, grasping her knee and pausing as he looked at the door.

"Mm, don't stop," she murmured, caressing his hair and nudging him back toward her. "Sully. Please."

"Thought I heard somethin'," he whispered. "Somebody's going down the stairs."

She listened for a moment, hearing a few creaking boards. "It's probably just Mother heading to the privy. We should try to be quiet."

"Don't look at me. You're the one makin' all the noise," he replied.

She grinned impishly. "Well, I can't help it. I just don't like to think that she might be listening. It's my mother."

"I think ya just killed the mood," he said wryly, falling to his side.

"You're the one who insisted we bring her out here," she reminded him. "This was your idea, remember?"

He crossed his arms impatiently. "Ya shouldn'ta listened to me."

She burst into giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. "I'm glad I did."

"It's good to see ya smilin' again," he murmured, stroking her cheek. "So ya think it's helped, havin' her out here?"

"Yes, very much. You were right about her. She's actually quite a good listener when she wants to be." She sighed. "I just wish she were a little more understanding about Red Eagle. I don't think she really believes we intend to adopt him permanently."

"Or don't wanna believe, at least," he replied.

She looked at him hopefully. "We are going to, aren't we, Sully? Make it permanent?"

He turned to face her. "Tell ya what, why don't ya find those adoption papers we used for Brian and Colleen. We'll get started on it tomorrow."

"Oh, good," she murmured, beaming.

He snuggled close to her and kissed her neck sensuously while he caressed her breast with one hand.

"I thought you said I killed the mood," she said mischievously.

"The mood's back," he replied, grabbing the sheet and bringing it up over them.

& & &

"Mornin', Mama," Katie said cheerfully, dressed in her Sunday best. "Mornin', Gran'ma."

"Morning, sweetheart," Michaela replied, dishing up some eggs onto a plate and putting it on the table for her. "Brian's milking the cow. It'll only be a minute."

Elizabeth was stirring some fried potatoes on the stovetop. "Good morning, dear."

Katie sat down and began eating as Byron scurried into the room.

"Hey!" he shouted.

"Hey yourself. You're not wearing your tie," Michaela remarked, kissing his head and placing another plate in front of him.

"So?" he replied, picking up his fork and digging in.

"So, I want you to wear a tie on Sunday mornings. After breakfast go upstairs and get it."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied grudgingly.

She grinned and returned to the stove. "Where's Red Eagle? He's always up so early."

"Don't know," Katie replied.

"That's strange. Perhaps he's ill," Elizabeth remarked as she spooned some potatoes onto Katie's plate.

Byron slowed his chewing, looking at Michaela uncomfortably.

"Is he still sleeping, Byron?" Michaela asked, confused by his look of guilt.

"Not really," he whispered.

All the more confused, Michaela put the pan of eggs on the stovetop and walked to the stairwell. "Red Eagle? Come down for breakfast." She ascended the stairs, walking into the boys room. She was puzzled to see the cot neatly made. She opened the bureau, finding Red Eagle's clothes and shoes missing, as well as his stuffed bear. She glanced at the nightstand, drawing in her breath. The only photograph he had of his mother was gone. Michaela rushed back downstairs as Sully and Brian came in from doing the chores.

"Red Eagle's gone. He didn't sleep in his bed last night and his photograph of Hattie and all his clothes are missing," she said frantically. "And his bear. His bear is gone, too. He wouldn't go anywhere without it."

Brian put the bucket of milk on the table. "He run away?"

"Sounds like it," Sully replied. "Don't worry. I'll find him. Brian, get together some provisions."

"Oh, no," Elizabeth exclaimed. "He could be anywhere!"

Brian rushed to the kitchen, Michaela following him. She put her hand on Byron's shoulder. "Did he say anything to you two last night? Anything at all?"

"No, Mama," Katie said.

Byron cleared his throat. "No, Mama," he whispered hoarsely.

Michaela looked out the window worriedly. "Sully, he's been out there all night."

"I'll follow the creek first, check all his favorite spots to fish," Sully said, grabbing his gloves and putting them on. "Then check in town. He's not there I'll look farther out."

"He can't be too far," Brian said reasonably, packing some beef jerky into a satchel. "He's just a little kid."

"Maybe he went to Denver," Byron suggested. He suddenly covered his mouth, looking at Michaela guiltily.

Michaela grasped his arms, turning him to face her. "What did he say to you, Byron? What did he say? You have to tell Mama."

Byron twisted up his face uncomfortably. "I promised not to tell."

"Byron, Red Eagle could be hurt out there. You have to tell me. Did he say something about Denver?"

"Not much. Just that…that he wants to go back to the orphanage there."

"The orphanage! But why?" Brian asked in disbelief. "They other kids beat him up!"

Byron shrugged, glancing at Sully. "He said…he said you don't love him, Papa."

Sully let out a deep sigh, bending his head.

"Sully, he must have heard us," Michaela said, bringing one hand to his mouth. "Oh, no. He must have heard everything."

"Michaela, you go, too," Elizabeth instructed. "Brian and I will stay here with the children in case he comes back."

"We'll head North," Sully said, walking to the door. "I'll saddle the horses. Be ready to go in ten minutes."

& & &

Loren slapped the reins, eager to get back to town. It had been a long drive to his supplier in Monument, and he was grouchy. He suddenly spotted a little boy walking toward him on the road, carrying nothing but a satchel and a stuffed toy. As he came closer, he recognized him as Red Eagle.

"What in blazes," he muttered. He slapped the reins again, urging his team to go a little faster.

"Mark Randolph!" he finally called. "What're you doing all the way out here?"

Red Eagle slowly approached the wagon and tiredly put his satchel on the ground. "Mornin', Mr. Bray."

"Where's your ma and pa?" he demanded. "You're too little to be out alone like this."

"I'm not too little, and they aren't my ma and pa," he retorted.

Loren slowly nodded. "I know what this is. You're runnin' away, ain't you?"

"I'm going back to the orphanage where Dr. Mike shoulda left me in the first place," he said bravely. "And don't try to stop me."

"Wasn't going to," Loren replied.

Red Eagle scratched his head, glancing at the full wagon. "Hey, what're you doing out here?"

Loren looked back at the supplies. "Oh, it's a long story. You ain't interested."

"Yes I am," Red Eagle said.

"Well, if you must know, one of my shipments from Denver got put on the wrong train. Got sent to Grand Junction or someplace, who knows. I had to go to Monument and get some supplies to hold me over until a new shipment arrives. Mark my words when I find out who fouled this up I'll never do business with him again."

"Maybe it was an accident," Red Eagle suggested. "Maybe he feels really bad."

"Well, good, he should," Loren retorted. He sighed, eyeing him. "You been out here all night?

"Yes, sir."

"Had anything to eat?"

Red Eagle slowly shook his head.

"Well, boy, you sure don't know much about runnin' away. You're supposed to bring food with you for your trip. And you're not supposed to walk on the main road in plain sight where anybody could find you and turn you in." He reached into a crate at his feet and pulled out a small satchel. He handed him down the satchel. "Here, Dorothy packed me this for the road. You can have the rest."

Red Eagle dug into the satchel and pulled out a roll, devouring it quickly. "Please don't turn me in, Mr. Bray. Please. I can't go back there. I can't go back."

Loren grumbled and sighed. "Well, if you really want to run away I s'pose there's nothing I can do about it."

Red Eagle beamed. "Thank you, Mr. Bray."

"Go on, get out of here," he replied briskly.

& & &

Red Eagle heard a handful of schoolboys singing a spiritual as the slowly came up behind him. He stopped walking and turned to watch them. He recognized them as three boys from Shantytown. They were carrying fishing poles and were barefoot.

"I looked over Jordan, and what'd I see," one of the boys sang, his pitch perfect.

"Comin' for to carry me home," the other boys sang in reply.

"A band of angels comin' after me," the first boy continued.

"Comin' for to carry me home," the boys echoed.

"Hey, look, it's that Injun," one of the boys shouted.

Suddenly frightened, Red Eagle scurried off the road and tried to hide in the brush.

"Where ya goin', Injun?" one of the boys called, running into the brush, grabbing him and dragging him out. He held his arms from behind while the other boys took his satchel and dumped the contents.

"Let me go! Help!" Red Eagle cried.

"Look, Jerome, you ever seen an Injun so damn rich?" one of the boys remarked, examining the clothes in the satchel and the new shoes on Red Eagle's feet. "Dr. Mike buys you anything you want, don't she? She give you money? Where is it?"

Red Eagle shook his head. "No. I got nothing. She doesn't give me money."

"I know she does, how else you got such fine clothes and smell like that flower soap white folks use? Makes my stomach sick," another boy remarked, violently patting him down. "Where is it? Gimme!"

Red Eagle began to cry. "I don't got any money. I swear."

One of the boys held up the photograph of Hattie. "Who's this white lady?"

Red Eagle glanced at the picture, crying harder.

"This is your real ma, ain't it," he remarked, laughing. "She done took up with an Injun and got a good for nothin' little bastard like you to show for it. Well, she's a dirty whore, ain't she?"

Seething, Red Eagle broke free from the other boy's grip and attacked him, punching him fiercely in the jaw.

"Get 'em!" the boy replied, and the three boys lunged at Red Eagle, attacking him viciously.

& & &

Red Eagle lay curled up in the road, eyes closed and blood draining from his mouth. The three boys from Shantytown stood over him nervously.

"Lord, we didn't kill him, did we?" Jerome whispered as another boy untied Red Eagle's shoes.

William nudged Red Eagle with his foot. Red Eagle couldn't help but groan.

"No, he's all right," William remarked, relieved.

The boy untying the shoes removed them and tucked them under his arm. He suddenly whipped around, hearing something. "A wagon's comin'! Let's get outta here!"

The boys scampered off into the woods making off with Red Eagle's shoes and lunch satchel.

Loren spotted Red Eagle on the ground. Frantically, he slapped the reins.

"Mark! Mark!" he cried, pulling back hard on the reins and climbing down. He squatted beside Red Eagle, touching his back. He feared for a moment the child was dead, and let out an immense sigh of relief when Red Eagle slowly opened his eyes and looked up at him.

"Mr. Bray," he whispered weakly. "You came back."

"What happened? Who did this to you?"

"Couple of kids from the Freedmen school. I was playing dead so they would stop," he explained.

Loren helped him sit up and took his bandana, wiping at the blood around Red Eagle's mouth. "That's a smart boy."

"They called my real mama a whore."

"They did, did they. You even know what that is?" Loren asked.

Red Eagle shrugged. "I don't know. I think it means she did bad things like not marrying my pa."

"Your ma was no such thing," he said firmly. "Dr. Mike said the only reason your ma didn't marry your pa is because stubborn white folks like me wouldn't let her. She raised up a good boy like you all by herself, that should count for something."

"My picture of Mama," Red Eagle said, patting the ground frantically. "Did they take it?"

Loren looked around, spotting the photograph face down in some dust. He grabbed it and brushed it off. "Here it is."

Red Eagle hugged it to his chest. "Mama," he whispered.

Loren helped him to his feet. "Come on, boy. The creek's just off the road. Let's get you cleaned up."

& & &

Red Eagle kneeled beside the creek and coughed into the water, bringing up blood and a little vomit.

"Thata boy. Spit it out," Loren said, gently patting his back.

Red Eagle dipped his hand into the water and splashed water on his face, catching his breath.

"All right, let me see," Loren said, turning his face toward him and nudging his mouth open. "Well, you lost a tooth on the bottom here. But I think it was a baby one."

"I think I swallowed it," Red Eagle remarked.

Loren wiped the little boy's face off again with the bandana. "There's no end in sight to the trouble you children find yourselves in. I don't know how Dr. Mike and Sully do it! Now I know why me and my wife only had one."

"Where is he?" Red Eagle asked curiously. "Does he live in Colorado Springs, too?"

Loren swallowed. "She. And she passed on, a long time ago."

Red Eagle blinked water from his eyes. "Oh. Then you must know how Dr. Mike and Sully felt when Jack died."

"Well, I s'pose," he muttered, standing up and grasping Red Eagle's arm. "You'll be all right. Nothin' broken. Let's get back to my wagon."

"How come you came back this way, Mr. Bray?" Red Eagle asked as they made their way up the incline.

"I forgot something," Loren replied quickly.

Red Eagle eyed him, immediately knowing he wasn't being honest. "No you didn't."

Loren shrugged. "All right, I wanted to find out what you meant. Why did you say you couldn't go back? Don't you know how much they care about you? Dr. Mike near talks my ear off about how great you are. In fact I'm pretty sick of hearing it and so is everybody else." He put his hand on his shoulder. "Boy, you realize she didn't even show her face in town after the baby passed away? But now she's back to normal because of you."

"It's not Dr. Mike," he admitted. "I love her and she's so nice to me. She buys me nice things and cooks good and reads to me."

"Then what's the problem?" Loren demanded.

"It's Sully," he admitted. "Mr. Bray, he hates me because I'm Crow. Don't you know about Little Big Horn? My pa killed his friends."

"Maybe he did and maybe he didn't. But the point is that was your pa," Loren said. They reached the wagon and Loren climbed up, reaching his hand down. "I'm bringing you straight home like I should have done in the first place."

Red Eagle looked up at him stubbornly. "No, sir. I'm still running away."

"They took all your things! You've got no food, no shoes, Denver is still sixty miles away and you'll freeze to death one more night in these mountains!" Loren replied. "Stop being foolish and get up here."

"I said I'm not going!" Red Eagle replied firmly.

"All right, all right," Loren said. "If you're so intent on going to Denver I'll just have to take you myself. Dr. Mike's gonna have my hide for this, but I got no choice."

"You'd do that?" Red Eagle asked skeptically.

"Well, I ain't gonna leave you here barefoot to walk all that way by yourself! And what if you run into those boys again? Did you think about that?"

Red Eagle immediately took his hand and climbed up. "All right. Let's go."

Loren slapped the reins. "You know, I've known Sully a long time. I knew him ten years before Dr. Mike ever even came to town."

"You did? Were you best friends?"

Loren laughed heartily.

Red Eagle looked out at the road. "Oh, I guess not."

Loren sobered. "My daughter Abigail was about seventeen when Sully started comin' round to court her. Fore I knew it they were engaged. And her ma and me were beside ourselves."

"What do you mean? You didn't like Sully?" Red Eagle asked.

"Well, I was pretty angry Sully was gonna take my little girl from me before I was ready. But they got hitched anyway, and it wasn't long before they had a baby coming."

"Sully told me about the baby. Her name was Hanna," Red Eagle whispered. "She died."

"Yep," Loren whispered. "Abigail, too."

"Poor Sully," Red Eagle whispered back, patting his arm. "Poor Mr. Bray."

Loren sighed. "Well, it took a long time, but we mended our differences. I forgave him for Abigail dyin', he forgave me for bein' such an old fool." He patted Red Eagle's back. "The point is I know how Sully is. And we're a lot alike. It ain't always easy for him to let folks know how he really feels. He's got a lot of pride. And sometimes, folks like you who don't know how he is, that might make you think he don't care about you."

Red Eagle bent his head. "But he really doesn't. He and Dr. Mike fight about me. Can I go here, can I go there, can I grow my hair, where should I go to school."

"All right, maybe so, but the only reason they're havin' disagreements 'bout you is because they want to do right by you. A boy like you, knowing what's right doesn't always come very easy." He sighed. "If Sully didn't care about you, do you really think he'd waste his time arguin' with Dr. Mike about what's best for you?"

Red Eagle shrugged, staring at his hands. "I still don't think he likes me. He'll be happy I'm back at the orphanage."

"No he won't, and I know that for a fact," Loren said firmly.

"How?"

"Look, when Sully was a boy he lost his ma, too. He went to an orphanage, too." He slapped the reins. "But nobody wanted him, let alone a whole family. You're lucky, Dr. Mike and Sully want you. And if I know Dr. Mike she's probably cryin' and carryin' on right now at the thought of somethin' happening to you out here. And Sully's probably on his fastest horse combing the territory for a sign of you." He squeezed his shoulder. "You're his son now, he told me so. He'll tell you how he feels, in his own time."

Red Eagle gently leaned against him. "Mr. Bray? My feet are kind of cold."

"I got a pair of shoes just your size. But it's back at my store."

"Well, maybe we could go back," he said tentatively. "Maybe I was wrong about Sully."

"Well, if you're sure."

"Sides, we wouldn't want you to get in trouble with Dr. Mike," he added.

Loren chuckled. "No, we wouldn't!" He pulled back on one of the reins, making a wide turn with the wagon and heading back south. "Come on Jasper. Let's go home."

& & &

Sully squatted beside the creek and filled two canteens with water as their horses drank their fill a few yards downstream. Michaela knelt beside him and washed her face, exhausted after a long and dusty ride.

"How far do you think a boy his age could get in one night?" she asked, patting her face dry with her bandana.

"Don't know, depends. Pretty far if he keeps at it." He handed her a canteen and she took a long drink. "He could be hidin' from us, too. Stayin' off the road."

"Do you think he might not answer when I call him?" she asked.

"No, I think he will. He's really took to ya. We gotta get near him first though."

"We didn't do enough, Sully," she said despondently. "I didn't tell him I loved him enough. I didn't make him feel welcome enough. We didn't even get him a bed of his own. What were we thinking letting him sleep on a thin cot in Byron's room for two months?"

He sighed. "It's me that's to blame. I didn't treat him like I do the other kids, and he eventually picked up on it." He took a swig from his canteen. "Soon as we find him, things are gonna change."

"He's so little to be out here alone," she said tearfully. "All the wild animals out here, and last night was freezing. He didn't even take his jacket. And what if…what if he comes across someone who doesn't take kindly to him? We know how people around here feel about someone like him."

"Let's get back on the road. We gotta find him soon as we can," he said, standing and jumping onto the back of his horse.

To be continued…If you're enjoying my story, please vote for it in the annual fanfic poll. Go to a number 1 BELOW Least of These. Then place numbers 2 through 5 on any other stories of your choosing. You MUST vote for 5 stories and leave your name and a valid email address, or your vote will not be counted. Thank you so much!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Michaela quickly mounted Flash and squeezed the horse's belly tightly with her legs, following Sully up the embankment back to the road. They galloped north for a few miles, calling for Red Eagle but encountering nothing until Loren's wagon suddenly appeared around the bend.

Michaela and Sully stopped their horses, flabbergasted to see Red Eagle sitting beside Loren happily enjoying the ride back.

"Dr. Mike! Sully!" the little boy shouted.

"Red Eagle!" Michaela called back with immense relief. She and Sully galloped their horses toward the wagon and jumped down.

"He's all right. None the worse for wear," Loren said, helping the boy down.

Michaela and Sully lifted him into their arms and Michaela showered him with kisses. "Oh, my sweetheart. You're hurt! And what happened to your shoes?"

"He'll explain everything," Loren said. "Right now he just needs to get back home."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Mike. I'm sorry, Sully," Red Eagle said tearfully, bending his head. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't you ever, ever do that again!" Michaela said, cupping his cheeks. "Look at me! What were you thinking?! Don't ever do that again!"

"You scared us half to death!" Sully added.

"Please don't be mad," he replied. "Don't yell."

Michaela hugged him. "Oh, sweetheart. You just frightened us that's all."

"We're only upset because we love you," Sully explained gently, smoothing his hair and kissing his head. "I love ya, Red Eagle. Last thing I want is to send ya back to that orphanage. We want ya home with us."

"Me neither, Sully. I want to live with you," Red Eagle said tearfully. "I'm sorry I ran away. I'm so sorry."

Michaela rocked him and kissed him. "Let's go home."

Sully lifted him into his arms. "You can ride up with me."

Michaela reached up and squeezed Loren's hand. "Loren, thank you."

"Well, at least he didn't make me too late," he replied.

"Bye, Mr. Bray," Red Eagle called sweetly, giving him a little wave.

Loren smiled softly. "See you around town, Red Eagle."

& & &

Michaela laid Red Eagle on his cot and opened her medical bag. Byron, Katie, Sully, Elizabeth and Brian all looked on dotingly. She wet a cloth with some carbolic acid and tenderly cleaned his wounds.

"Well, young man, you've had quite a day," Michaela remarked.

"Three big boys against a little thing like him," Brian remarked. "Lucky it wasn't any worse."

"I played dead," Red Eagle explained. "Just like you did when you were little, Sully. It worked!"

"That was a good idea," Sully said, holding his hand.

Michaela opened his mouth and examined the gap at the front. "They knocked out a tooth."

"I hope it was a baby tooth," Elizabeth remarked.

"I swallowed it. Don't worry, Mr. Bray said it'll turn up eventually," Red Eagle said.

Michaela laughed and kissed him. "All right, you need to sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"Why, what's tomorrow?"

"Well, the circuit judge is going to be in town. Sully and I just need him to sign the proper paperwork and it's official."

"You mean, tomorrow I'm getting adopted? For real?"

"Yes, it's your big day," Michaela said lovingly. "We're going to have a big party here with games and food."

"It'll be just like a birthday party," Byron explained.

"I never had a party just for me," he said in wonder.

Michaela held his other hand. "Just for you. You're part of the family now."

"You're our brother," Katie said sweetly.

"And our son," Sully whispered, crouching beside him and kissing his head.

& & &

Michaela straightened Red Eagle's tie one last time as they waited for the judge to enter the church. Matthew and Sully sat on the other side of Red Eagle and Elizabeth sat behind them with the other children. On the other side of the room sat several townsfolk who had come to witness the occasion. Among them were Loren and Dorothy, Grace and Robert E., Kirk and Faye Davis, Sarah and Anna Marie Sheehan, Andrew Cook and the Reverend. Michaela looked out at the crowd, touched by their support. She turned her attention back to Red Eagle and smoothed back a stray hair.

"Don't be so nervous, Dr. Mike," Red Eagle said with a grin.

"I'm not nervous," she replied.

"Yes she is," Sully said with a grin.

Suddenly Judge Webster opened the back door and entered the room, walking to the desk. The crowd rose to their feet and Michaela held Red Eagle's hand.

"Be seated," Judge Webster said, placing a small pile of paperwork in front of him. "I see the only thing on the docket this morning is a petition for adoption." He put on his spectacles and examined a piece of paper. "Are the petitioning parties and their attorney present?"

Matthew stood. "Yes, we are, your honor," he said.

"And is the child present?"

"Yes, your honor," Matthew said.

The judge glanced at Red Eagle briefly. "The child's birth mother is dead, correct?"

"Yes, we attached her death certificate," Matthew replied.

The judge flipped through the papers until he found the certificate. "And you believe in good faith his father is dead as well?"

"Yes, we do," Matthew said.

"I'd like to speak directly to the child if you don't mind," Judge Webster said. "I always like to consult the minors if they're old enough. You're seven, young man, correct?"

Red Eagle looked at him, awed by his commanding presence. "Yes, sir," he murmured.

"And would you like to live with Mr. Sully and Dr. Quinn?"

"Oh, you can just call them Sully and Dr. Mike. Everybody does," Red Eagle replied. The crowd chuckled quietly and Michaela patted his back with a grin.

"Answer his question, sweetheart," Michaela said.

He suddenly panicked. "What was the question again?"

The judge chuckled. "Do you want them to be your new ma and pa?" he asked patiently.

"Oh. Yes, Mr. Judge. More than anything."

He smiled kindly and looked back at his papers. "Well, I've looked over the petition of adoption and everything seems in order. I've deemed Byron Sully and Michaela Quinn to be upstanding, law abiding citizens. I believe they're the appropriate parents to place this child with and that this adoption is in the child's best interest."

Michaela glanced at Sully and shared a smile with him.

"Will you be requesting to change his name to Sully? If so I can grant that at this time."

"No, we won't be changing his name," Michaela said.

"Very well then." He removed his spectacles and gazed out at them. "I believe adoptions are about the only time everyone in my courtroom is happy. I always look forward to them." He picked up his pen and quickly scratched his signature at the bottom of a few forms. "By the power invested in me I grant this petition for adoption. Byron Sully and Michaela Quinn are now the legal parents of Red Eagle Randolph with all the rights and responsibilities that entails. Congratulations, and good luck to you." He picked up his gavel and banged it for emphasis. "Court is dismissed." With that he stood and left the room through the same door he came. Everyone in the room clapped.

"That's it?" Red Eagle asked.

Michaela and Sully stood and picked him up as the townsfolk moved toward them to shake Sully and Brian's hands.

"That's it. You're all ours now," Michaela said.

"You're my real brother now!" Byron spoke up, standing up on the pew and clapping his hands.

"Here's a present for you from me and Byron, Red Eagle," Katie spoke up sweetly, handing him a small paper bag. "It's candy."

Red Eagle beamed and reached his hand into the paper, pulling out a gumdrop and popping it in his mouth.

"I think he's more excited about the candy," Michaela said to Sully.

"Let's take him home," Sully said with a grin.

"My real home this time," Red Eagle said reverently.

& & &

Michaela sat in the pew and put her right arm around Katie and held Red Eagle's hand with her left hand. Byron was cuddled in Sully's lap, patiently listening to the sermon. Matthew sat beside Katie, and Elizabeth, Brian and Sarah were behind them. Michaela loved the peaceful moments in church when the children cuddled up against her and Sully and they all grew quiet as they listened.

"I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me," the Reverend recited from the pulpit. "Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'"

Michaela glanced down at Red Eagle, reaching her hand up and smoothing his hair. It had grown to just touch his shoulders, and she had to admit it suited him. More importantly, Red Eagle loved having his hair like Sully, and she was content now to allow him to do so.

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

Sully met Michaela's eyes and gave her a soft smile. She smiled back lovingly and then looked back at the Reverend as he continued to preach.

& & &

Elizabeth and Michaela sipped at their sweet tea from tin cups as they relaxed on the picnic blanket and watched Sully and Brian throw around the baseball with the children.

"Byron's getting quite good at that baseball," Elizabeth remarked. "Look how fast he can hurl it."

"Sully loves tossing the ball with him," Michaela remarked. "They'll play catch for hours sometimes."

Loren approached the ladies with a smile. "Dr. Mike. Elizabeth. Afternoon."

"Loren, would you like some tea, or something to eat?" Michaela asked, grasping the pitcher in the center of the blanket.

"Oh, no thanks. Dorothy's unpacking a big lunch. Good sermon, wasn't it? I helped him with it. Well, I read him the passage he was lookin' for anyway."

"Yes, your Reverend does quite well for a small town preacher, not to mention he can't even see," Elizabeth replied.

Loren watched the children toss the ball for a moment. "His hair's sure gettin' long."

"That's what I keep saying," Elizabeth replied with a sigh.

"I'm not going to cut it," Michaela said defensively. "We're going to let him grow it."

"I didn't say you should cut it," Loren replied. "I just said it's gettin' long."

Surprised, Michaela sat back. "Oh."

"Dr. Mike, what're you gonna do about his schoolin'?" Loren asked suddenly.

"You mean Red Eagle? Truthfully, I'm not sure now. The Freedmen school doesn't want him going there, and neither does the school on the Reservation."

"It's hopeless if you ask me," Elizabeth added, taking a sip of her sweet tea.

"I've been thinkin', if he's gonna be a part of this town permanently, it might be a good idea we get him educated. I think you should go to the council and get them to overrule Mrs. Slicker and let him go to school with all the other children."

"But don't you think I would surely lose?" Michaela replied. "Obviously I would vote in favor of it, but I'm not even sure I can depend on the Reverend to support me on this."

"Michaela's all alone in this, Loren," Elizabeth said. "She's fighting a losing battle and frankly I'd rather she not waste her efforts. The whole family has been through so much recently."

He crossed his arms. "Well, maybe it don't have to be a fight. I guess I could vote for it, maybe try to convince the others. That's two votes at least. You only need three."

Michaela slowly smiled. "You'd vote to send him to school, Loren?"

"We might as well get him some book learnin'. One thing I can't stand is a child who doesn't know their sums, or who the president is, or a child who was never taught to speak proper English. Indian or not he should learn those things."

"Loren!" Dorothy called from several yards away. "Lunch is ready!"

"Gotta go," Loren said, quickly turning around and joining Dorothy.

Michaela watched him, still smiling. "I don't believe it."

"Well, maybe he'll get to go to school after all," Elizabeth said.

"Oh, Mother, that would be so good for him. It may not be easy for him at first but I know in time the children would start to accept him."

Elizabeth shrugged. "He's such a bright child. I suppose it's a shame not to educate him properly. And perhaps by the time he's grown, things will be a little better. Perhaps he might even have a chance at a somewhat respectable job. Though I can't say much for that teacher of theirs. I would expect if you send him there you're in for more pointless, exaggerated notes home."

Michaela hesitated. "No, Teresa's a good teacher. We may not see eye to eye, but I have a feeling Red Eagle would do well with her. Besides, she of all people should understand how it feels to not be accepted. Perhaps she'd be very good for Red Eagle."

"That's true. It must be difficult at times to be Mexican here."

Michaela sighed, relieved. "I suddenly feel like there's some hope about this, Mother. I feel like things are looking up for him."

"Maybe it's wasn't as bad of an idea as I first thought," Elizabeth admitted. "I was watching all of you in church today. It's as if Red Eagle is just another member of your family. I barely notice he's Indian anymore."

"He's a Sully now," Michaela said proudly.

& & &

"Try that spot over there," Sully instructed. He and Red Eagle were sitting on a fallen log beside the creek, holding their fishing lines in the water. They hadn't caught anything, but they were both enjoying just spending time together.

Red Eagle cast his line forward as far as he could. "See some fish over there, Sully?"

"Yep, looks like there's some big trout swimmin'."

Red Eagle glanced at him reverently. He had been ecstatic when Sully offered to take him fishing in the afternoon. For once he didn't wish he was in school like Byron and Katie. He would much rather be with Sully.

"My mama used to fish with me, before she got sick," Red Eagle remarked. "She did boy things with me even though I don't think she really wanted to."

"Your ma was a real good lady," Sully replied, gently patting his back. "You hang on to those good memories. Never forget her."

"Do you still remember your ma, Sully? Mr. Bray told me she died, too."

Sully swallowed hard, gazing at the water. "Yeah. Yeah, she did," he whispered.

The last time he had spoken about his mother was eight years ago, when Michaela was pregnant with Katie. The baby was due in less than three weeks and Michaela was exhausted and constantly uncomfortable and on top of it all incredibly despondent that they still hadn't been able to agree on a name for it. Every name she liked Sully didn't care for. And anything he suggested she wasn't very keen on either. Sully had even found her in tears a few times at the thought of their little girl or boy being born without any name. It was so important to her that everything be ready for the baby's arrival, including the right name for it. He supposed it was some sort of nesting instinct kicking in that made her so preoccupied with having everything prepared and perfect, and it was beginning to irritate him a little he had to admit. He was much more relaxed about finding a name, certain they would come across one they both liked eventually even if it was after the baby was born. But deep down Michaela feared this was just the beginning of many disagreements over decisions that would invariably need to be made regarding their child. If they couldn't even agree what to call him or her, what else wouldn't they see eye to eye on?

Finally Sully had cuddled up against her in bed one evening, rubbed her lower back where he knew it was aching the most, and told her for the first time about his mother. He hadn't said much, only that she was a kind and beautiful woman, loved her two sons unconditionally, and that Sully had adored her back. And that her name had been Katherine. Michaela liked the name immediately, and loved Sully's suggestion to call the baby Katie for short. She loved even more pairing the name with Elizabeth so that their little girl -- she was suddenly certain she was carrying a girl -- would have a name from each of her grandmothers. And that was all Sully had ever said to Michaela, or anyone for that matter, about the woman they had named their firstborn child after.

"Did she get sick like my ma?" Red Eagle asked.

"No. There was an accident. She drowned," Sully whispered.

"What'd she look like?"

Sully took a deep breath. He felt safe revealing to Red Eagle what he had never told anyone. "She had the prettiest blue eyes ya ever saw. And long blonde hair that was so beautiful when she let it down at bedtime. And she sang to me. She sang me lullabies every night. She had a real sweet voice."

"My mama sang to me, too."

Sully put his arm around him and squeezed his shoulder. "Guess I forgot how I felt when my ma passed on. How much that hurt. How scared I was when I got sent off to an orphanage. Red Eagle, I'm sorry I haven't helped ya more after ya lost your ma. I guess sometimes folks get caught up in things that don't matter. Ya understand?"

Red Eagle slowly nodded. "Yeah. It's all right, Sully."

"Hey, what do you say ya call me Pa? I'd like that."

"You would?"

"Yeah. And I know Dr. Mike would really like it if ya called her Mama."

He smiled softly. "Really?"

"But only if we can call ya son," Sully murmured, giving his head a gentle kiss.

"You can call me son. You can call me anything you want, Papa," Red Eagle whispered back, leaning against him and grasping his hand reverently.

& & &

Sully held Red Eagle in his lap as the little boy read aloud from his McGuffey's reader. Elizabeth and Michaela were busily down on their knees scrubbing the floor after cleaning the clinic from top to bottom for most of the morning. Red Eagle offered to help, but Michaela insisted he work on his reading, especially if he might soon get to go to school.

"'The most interesting species is the bald eagle," Red Eagle read, tapping his finger on each word. "He eats fish, and is found near the sea, and along the shores and cliffs of our large lakes and rivers.'"

Red Eagle looked back at Sully. "Know why my mama named me Red Eagle? Cause eagles live by themselves, and we were all alone."

Sully smoothed back his hair, smiling softly.

"What about the red part?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

He giggled. "Oh. Cause I was all red when I was born!"

Sully chuckled, holding him a little closer. "Keep readin'. You're doin' real good."

"'The eagle lives to a great age. One is stated to have died after one-hundred and four years.' Is that true, Pa?"

"Don't know. S'pose it's possible."

Someone rang the bell and Elizabeth rose to answer it, placing her scrub brush in the bucket.

She opened the door to reveal Teresa Slicker. The teacher was holding a small piece of paper.

"Oh, it's you," Elizabeth remarked impatiently. "Let me guess, you've come to tell us you're going to fail Byron. You're like the boy who cried wolf."

Michaela slowly got to her feet. "Mother," she warned softly.

"I cannot stay long. The children are on recess. But there's something you should see, Dr. Quinn," Teresa said patiently.

Michaela walked to the door and Teresa handed her the paper. Michaela turned it around to face her. It was a drawing of two little boys holding hands and smiling. One had dark skin and the other was white.

"Byron was drawing this during our history lesson," Teresa said evenly.

Elizabeth glanced at the drawing and crossed her arms. "So what of it? My grandson's creativity should not be stifled. He's very artistically gifted and he should be encouraged to express himself however he likes."

"May I speak with you in private, Dr. Quinn?" Teresa asked.

Sully got up and held Red Eagle's hand. "I was gonna go help out Robert E. with some orders. Wanna come?"

Red Eagle beamed, thrilled. "Can I, Sully? I mean Pa. I can help you?"

"Sure ya can. Come on," Sully said, leading him out of the clinic.

"I won't get in the way, Pa," Red Eagle said eagerly. "I won't be underfoot."

Sully put his hand on his shoulder. "I know ya won't. Ya never have." He looked back at Elizabeth. "Why don't ya come with us?"

"Go on, Mother," Michaela encouraged.

Elizabeth eyed the school teacher defiantly. "You're probably not aware Michaela's father was one of the finest physicians in Boston and a true scholar. And Michaela herself always achieved perfect marks on anything she ever did in school. Katie and Byron come from a long line of superior intelligence."

Teresa looked back at her unemotionally.

"Come on, Elizabeth," Sully said, grabbing her hand and drawing her out.

"Mrs. Slicker, I'm sorry he wasn't paying attention," Michaela said once they left. "I'll talk to him. It won't happen again."

"I think I have discovered why Byron is having such difficulty in school lately."

"It's the loss of his baby brother," Michaela said quietly, lowering her eyes. "Byron adored Jack and this has been difficult for him."

"No, I think it's more than that." Teresa glanced at the paper. "He's daydreaming about the Indian child all day, that's what it is. All he talks about is his new brother. It seems they are inseparable."

"Oh. Well, that's true," Michaela admitted.

"Dr. Quinn, I've heard talk you're going to go to the council about the Indian child. I know what's going on here. And you know I have very grave concerns about allowing him to attend school. I have worked hard to maintain a very orderly classroom. That child threatens that." She took a deep breath. "But I'm beginning to think having Mark in school may be the best thing for Byron. Perhaps if he is able to sit next to him and work together with him, he'll be able to focus better on his studies."

Michaela slowly smiled. "Oh, I think you're right about that. I think they would both thrive together at your school."

"I have heard Mr. Bray supports you in sending him here. I believe you will have enough votes. I'm not going to waste my time fighting something I can't win. If this is what the town wants, then so be it."

"Then you're saying you'll let him come to school?" Michaela replied hopefully.

"I have some conditions. First, he cannot use his Indian name in school. Everyone must call him Mark Randolph. He must not wear buckskin or Indian effects of any kind. You must dress him like you dress Byron. And he must cut his hair so he looks like the other children."

"Cut his hair!" Michaela exclaimed. "No, I'm not doing that to him."

"Those are my conditions," Teresa said. "I hope to see Mark there on Monday."

& & &

"It was so underhanded of her, Sully," Michaela said furiously. "Telling me he could come to school and then turning around and telling me how I should dress my own son and cut his hair and what his name should be. She's put us in an impossible position."

"Michaela, she's offerin' a compromise," Sully said as he held the reins and drove the wagon toward the church. "She had to let go of a lot of pride to come talk to ya."

"I don't care what you call it. It's not right what she's doing," she replied.

He crossed the bridge and pulled the wagon to a stop, putting his hand on her back. "He likes havin' long hair. And he likes bein' called Red Eagle. But I think he'd like goin' to school more. Don't you?"

She sighed, glancing at him and giving him a soft kiss. "You're right. Again."

He smiled and glanced at the church where Reverend Johnson was waiting on the steps. "There's the Reverend. Ya ready?"

She took a deep breath and nodded.

He climbed down and lifted his arms up, helping Michaela to the ground.

"Good afternoon, Reverend," Michaela said.

He smiled and stepped forward. "Michaela, Sully. I'm so glad you came."

He waved his stick and led them to the gated cemetery. "I'll be right here. Just call if you need anything at all."

Michaela squeezed his arm. "Thank you, Reverend. For everything."

"You're welcome, Michaela," he replied softly.

Michaela grasped Sully's hand tightly and they entered the small cemetery. They made their way to Jack's marker a few feet away from Abigail and Hanna Sully's plots.

Michaela slowly crouched down in front of the marker and kissed his carved name. "It's Mama, Jack," she said tearfully. "Mama's here now."

"Papa's here, too," Sully whispered, kneeling beside Michaela and continuing to hold her hand tightly.

Michaela dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "So much has happened since you went to heaven. You have a new brother now. Oh, he would have loved you." She caressed the marker. "We miss you so much, Jack. Every day."

Sully removed a few fallen twigs and leaves from the grass, and smoothed off some dust from the marker. They gazed at it together for a long moment.

"We'll visit again soon and plant some flowers," Michaela said at last. "Next time we'll bring Byron and Katie, and your brother Red Eagle."

She took a deep breath and glanced at Sully, nodding. He helped her to her feet and put his arm around her waist and they silently walked back toward the Reverend. Michaela suddenly spotted Hattie's simple wooden marker on the edge of the cemetery. She stopped and gazed at it.

"What is it?" Sully asked.

Michaela led Sully over to the marker and placed her hand on top.

"She's watching over him, Sully. She's watching over Jack for us. I can feel it," she whispered.

"And we'll watch over Red Eagle for her," he added.

"We'll watch over Red Eagle for you, Hattie," Michaela said softly. "Forever."

& & &

"I'll have Sully bring your trunk down in the morning," Michaela said as she and Elizabeth carried several hat boxes and her carpetbag down the stairs.

"I do hope that train leaves on time," Elizabeth remarked. "You know how I detest long, drawn out goodbyes at the station."

"Yes, I know," Michaela said with a chuckle, stacking the boxes on the table. "Well, I think you brought enough hats."

"Next time you come to Boston I'm going to have Martha take you and Katie shopping. I'm afraid you can't get hats here like you can in Boston. And I've always been too afraid they'll be crushed to mail you any."

"I'd love to bring the children to Boston, Mother," Michaela replied. "If Red Eagle is welcome, too."

"I suppose he can come. He can impress all my friends with the way he can rattle off the state capitals and his sums. And the child could certainly use a little culture. Good gracious, can you imagine the only places you've ever seen are Montana and Colorado Springs? All the children could use a little Boston, frankly."

"I'll talk to Sully about Christmas," Michaela said with a smile.

"Perfect," Elizabeth replied. She stepped forward and kissed her. "Good night, dear."

"Mother? I'm glad you came."

"As am I," she replied, turning and heading back up the stairs.

Michaela straightened the hat boxes and then strolled to her writing desk nearby, neatening a few loose papers. She opened her leather bound appointment book. She was booked for weeks. Tomorrow was another day of patients as well as a scheduled hernia operation in the afternoon. She noted that Faye Davis was coming in at noon for a well checkup. Her pregnancy was progressing without event, and any jealousy Michaela felt initially had long since disappeared. Faye had already asked she and Sully to be the new child's godparents, and they had happily accepted. She sighed at the thought that she had almost left the clinic for good after Jack died. Now she couldn't imagine not going in every day.

Michaela suddenly noticed the discreet marking she had made on her calendar on the eighth of the month. She grasped a pen from the desk and counted eleven days after. She dropped the pen and looked up.

"Sully?" she called.

She crossed the room and opened the front door just as Sully was walking toward the porch.

"Horses are set for the night," he called, removing his gloves.

"The children are asleep and Mother's packed for tomorrow," she replied.

He ascended the steps. "Good. Wanna sit out here for awhile? Nice night."

She looked at him with a mixture of shyness and fervor.

Not knowing what to make of her expression, he chuckled. "What?"

"I was thinking, shouldn't we go to bed? I was looking at the calendar and, well, now's a good time."

His mouth dropped open slightly in realization. "Oh. Oh, well, yeah. Yeah, let's go to bed."

"You don't sound like you want to," she said timidly.

"Course I do," he replied lovingly. "Just wanted to sit out here with ya for a little bit first."

She smiled and stepped forward, putting her arm around his waist as they crouched down to sit on the top step together.

Michaela leaned against him and glanced up at him. "Are you worried it hasn't happened?"

"Michaela, we ain't given it enough time."

"Sully, I think we're forgetting everything we went through to have our children. The dozens of times we were disappointed. I want to make love with you because we want to, not because we're on some sort of strict schedule."

"Schedules don't bother me. I always want to make love," he said teasingly.

She smiled despite herself. "Yes I've realized that. Dorothy once warned me all men are like that."

He chuckled. "She did, huh?"

She kissed his cheek lovingly. "Sully, could we have a serious talk about this?"

He swallowed and nodded. "Sure."

"I'm trying to be hopeful about it. But I've just been feeling deep down that it's not going to happen again, no matter what we try. I can't explain it, I just know."

He squeezed her shoulder, slowly nodding. "Guess I kinda been thinkin' that, too."

"Are you disappointed?"

He kissed her head. "You know, when Red Eagle ran off, we didn't know where he was, if he was gonna come back to us safe, all I could think was how much he's done for us, for all of us. He's helped the kids have fun and laugh again after what happened. He gave you and I somethin' to care about other than how hard it's been losin' our son. And I kept thinkin' he makes our family complete. I don't mean he's replaced Jack, but he's just another member of the family now."

"Yes, he is. It's as if he's always been here. When Jack died, there was an empty place at our table. Now that place is filled." She bit her lip, glancing at him. "I just wish we could agree more often on what's best for him."

"I don't mean to fight with ya about him," he replied. "Michaela, it's just….the Army's done their best to pretty much rid the Indians of their own culture, forcin' 'em to dress like white men, live in huts, be taught white man's ways. I don't want to do that to Red Eagle."

"But he's-"

"I know. He's also white, and I wanna respect that. But if he don't learn respect for his father's people too, that there's no hope for any kind of understandin' between us and the Indians."

"Then raising this child could be our greatest chance to try to improve relations, to make things better."

He smiled and kissed her. "I'm glad ya thought we should do this. Ya never gave up. For awhile there I didn't think it was gonna work."

"We're making it work, Sully," she replied, gazing into his eyes. "Together."

The End

Please let me know if there is interest in posting my other four novels. I will do so if you would like!

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